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AN ERRAND GIRL: 


A 

Romance of New York Life. 

BT J 

EVELYN KIMBALL JOHNSON. 


7 


r 





NEW YORK: 

G, IV, Dillingham, Publisher, 

Successor to G. W. Carleton & Co. 

MDCCCLXXXIX. 



Copyright, 1888, 

BY 

Evelyn Kimball Johnson. 

[AU Rights Reserved.'] 


Stereotyped by 
Sajtuei. Stodder, 
42 Dsy Street, N. T. 


CONTENTS, 


Chapter Page 

I. A Visit to Poverty Row 6 

II. Guy and His Grand Aunt 10 

III. Guy’s New Home 14 

IV. Mrs. Withington 19 

V. A Ward Mission 26 

VI. A Day in the Streets 30 

VII. After Eight Years 84 

VIII. Mrs. Malony Seeks a New House 39 

IX. A Home of Luxury 47 

X. A Storm in a Palace 65 

XI. Farcvvc'll Days in the Old Cottage 63 

XII. Pansey’s New Home 69 

XHI. The New Banking-House 76 

XIV. Fashionable Dressmaking 84 

XV. A Fatal Fall 92 

XVI. Another Separation 103 

XVII. Alone Ill 

XVHI. Searching and Finding Work 121 

XIX. Bad News 131 

XX. A Railroad Disaster 139 

XXL Home Again 168 

[iii] 


IV 


CONTENTS, 


Chapter Page 

XXII. An Engagement 162 

XXIII. A Glad Surprise 171 

XXIV. Guy’s New Position 184 

XXV. A Family Talk 196 

XXVI. A Struggle to be Honorable 205 

XXVII. The Missing Keys 209 

XXVIII. How the Old Year Ended 216 

XXIX. Preparing for the Reception 222 

XXX. The Vanderwater Ball 233 

XXXI. New Troubles 239 

XXXII. Four Scenes 251 

XXXIII. A Mysterious Murder. 263 

XXXIV. The Terrible News Plies 274 

XXXV. An Important Discovery 280 

XXXVI. Brotherly and Sisterly Confidences 286 

XXXVII. Pansey’s Answer 295 

XXXVIH. A Surprising Confession 300 

XXXIX. Effects of the Shock 303 

XL. Reconciled Lovers 309 

XLI. A Summer Outing 314 

XLII. What the Old Chest Contained 1 330 

XLHI. Who the City Doctor is 387 


AN ERRAND GIRL. 


CHAPTER I. 

A VISIT TO POVERTY ROW. 

Mrs. Hannah Withington, village dressmaker of 
Hollywood, Massachusetts, found herself one freezing 
December day slipping around on the icy pavements of 
Poverty Row in New York City. She had made the 
pilgrimage hither on an errand of mercy, and therefore, 
defying wind and ice and snow, struggled bravely on to 
fulfil her mission. 

She had just left the police station near this miserable 
street, where she had been to inquire for her nephew, 
Leonard Hurlbert, having come to the great American 
metropolis in answer to a letter received the day previous 
from this nephew’s wife. The letter told her of their 
poverty and of three starving children, while the husband 
and father was dying with consumption. When the mis- 
sive reached Mrs. Withington she was stitching against 
time ’’upon one of her best customer’s toilets, which had to 
be finished immediately for appearance at a grand recep- 

[ 5 ] 


6 


A VISIT TO POVERTY ROW. 


tion, given by a lady of fashion and social renown in 
Boston, which is six miles from Hollywood. 

She hurriedly broke the seal, and after reading it 
through carefully, except that she forgot the street and 
number, slipped it in her pocket, and hastened to finish 
the demanded costume. But as fate had decreed it, the 
letter went at one side of her pocket into the lining of her 
dress, and was lost, she knew not when nor where. She 
had remembered that her nephew’s son was ten years old, 
and named Guy ; that the youngest was a girl less than 
three ; that there was one little girl six ; and that the 
marriage of Leonard Hurlbert was effected by an elope- 
ment with a wealthy man’s daughter from Chicago. 
These facts, contained in the lost letter, had burned their 
way into her brain ; but the most important part — the 
street and number of their wretched abode — had escaped 
her memory. 

She hurried on from street to street, ignorant of the 
fact that she had passed her nephew’s door in turning the 
corner from Poverty Eow, where the dead wife now lay 
upon a straw pallet, guarded by the three famishing 
children ; for Leonard Hurlbert had passed away on the 
night — Christmas eve — the letter was sent to his aunt. 
The wife followed in less than a week, and now nothing 
seemed to remain for the children to do but perish together 
from cold and hunger in that miserable tenement. 

It was commencing to get dark, and one by one the 
street lights sent forth fitful fiashes upon the filthy pave- 
ments. It required considerable courage for the kind- 
hearted widow to persevere in her search, amid such danger- 
ous surroundings, after night-fall. She was jeered at by 
rough mobs of street hoodlums, as she threaded her way 
through the crooked rows and alleys. People who have 
never had occasion to go through the streets in this portion 
of the city, can scarcely imagine what a forlorn and disgust- 


A VISIT TO POVERTY ROW. 


7 ' 


ing aspect they present ; nor can they yet dream of the dark 
and filthy dens in which its inhabitants drag out an exist- 
ence. 

“ If it is so appalling and disgusting for me to even walk 
through these places, what must Leonard Hurlbert and 
his family have suffered to live here, and breathe in such 
nauseous odors soliloquised the dressmaker, as she turned 
into Chatham Street, and wended her way toward the Astor 
House. 

The next day, and the next, and the next went by, and 
her energetic search had still been fruitless ; and she began 
to think that her journey hither was but a useless expense, 
and waste of precious time. She arose rather late on the 
second morning of the New Year, fatigued in body and 
dejected in spirit. 

She descended to the dining room fully determined 
that this should be the last day wasted in vain search. To- 
morrow she would return home, whether or not she had 
succeeded in finding the objects for whom she had made 
this cold and tedious journey in mid-winter. She returned 
to her room after having drank a cup of coffee, without so 
much as tasting of food, and sat down by her window to 
reflect. But her brain seemed confused, and she could 
form no definite plans as to what course to pursue that day. 
She looked toward the long lines of street cars and shud- 
dered at sight of the trembling horses, their mouths white 
with frozen foam ; and then turned a pitying glance upon 
the drivers, muffled to their eyes and thrashing their hands 
to keep from freezing. A vague and unaccountable impulse 
seized her to put on her bonnet and cloak, and ride up 
through the Bowery in one of the street cars. She hurried 
on her things, locked her door, and walked cautiously over 
the slippery pavements, reached the car, and stepped upon 
the rear platform, just as it stopped at the end of the line. 
The driver took advantage of the two minute's wait to go 


8 


A VISIT TO POVERTY ROW. 


inside and warm his chilled fingers, which were as blue 
and stiff as if the blood had congealed in the large, coarse 
veins. 

Mrs. Withington took the corner seat next to the 
heater, and watched the driver as he drew a dry ham sand- 
wich from his patched overcoat pocket, and placed it upon 
the stove to warm. Meanwhile he shovelled in fresh coal, 
and opened the registers. Then he pulled the burning 
sandwich from the heater, to which it had stuck fast, and 
swallowed it in two mouthfuls. It had been many years 
since the kind-hearted widow had entered a New York 
horse car, and this driver’s forlorn appearance, and the 
greedy manner in which he swallowed that unpalatable 
sandwich, touched her sympathetic heart. She beckoned 
for the man to come to her, and after asking him a few 
questions, dropped a half-dollar in his rough palm, say- 
ing : 

There is a little New Year’s offering for you. It 
must be very cold standing outside in this bitter and 
searching wind on your long route.” 

I thank you, mam, with all my heart ! This is the 
first time sense I’ve been on the road that anybody’s offered 
me a penny. I hope you’ll have a good many New Years, 
mam, and that they’ll all be happy ones, too !” 

As the driver went out to his cold post of duty, a pale, 
pinched looking boy, wearing patched and faded trousers 
and a coat large enough for a man, entered the car breath- 
ing upon his chilled fingers, and loaded with morning 
papers. There was no youthful freshness about the white 
. face, and his large hazel eyes stood out with a startled look 
from his thin, wan cheeks. 

“Morning papers, mam,” he called in a quivering 
voice, standing beside the stove a moment and looking 
toward Mrs. Withington with an anxious, hunted expres- 
sion. 


A VISIT TO POVERTY ROW. 


9 


The car had started ou, and passed the City Hall, but 
yet the dressmaker was the only passenger. The con- 
ductor came in to collect her fare, and seeing the newsboy 
by the stove, called out roughly : 

“ Here, you young rascal, get out of here. No room 
for the likes of you in this car.^’ 

The boy cast a frightened glance at the burly man, and 
turned quickly toward the door. 

Stop a moment, called Mrs. Withington. ‘‘I want 
a paper, boy and turning to the rough man who had 
driven him from the stove, she said : “ What harm was 
this poor lad doing that you should treat him so rudely ?” 

The man thus rebuked, muttered something about pas- 
sengers minding their own business, and passed to his plat- 
form with a bang of the car door. 

What paper would you like, mam ? I’ve got the 
Herald, Sun and Tribune, mam, and they’ve all got the 
account of the big snow storm out in Dakota.” 

I will take one of each, my boy and she slipped a 
twenty-five cent piece into his trembling hand. He drew 
the change from his pocket, and handed it to the lady with 
a respectful Thank you, mam.” 

“ I do not want any change back, child. You may 
keep it to buy a lunch. Do you sell many papers these 
cold mornings ?” 

This is the second day I’ve been selling papers, mam. 
Yesterday being New Year day I didn’t sell but five, which 
brought me five cents,” 

What do you spend your money for, boy, after you 
have earned it ?” 

‘‘ Bread, mam. I have lodgings in the house where my 
father and mother died. I do errands and gather kindlings 
for the woman in the room below ours, and she lets me 
sleep on her floor. I buy my own meals. She can’t afford 
to give me food.” 

1 * 


10 


GUY AND HIS GiiAND AUNT. 


How long is it since j^our parents died, boy ?” 

Father died Christmas night, and mother took cold, 
and had pneumonia, and died in a few days after.” 

What is your name, child ?” asked the dressmaker, 
seeing the boy’s lip quiver, and the tears well up in his 
hazel eyes. 

Guy Hurlbert, mam !” was the sobbing response. 

Mrs. Withington stopped the car, and taking hold of 
the astonished newsboy’s hand, led him to the sidewalk, 
repeatedly murmuring : Thank Heaven, I have found 

him I Leonard Hurlbert’s boy !” 


CHAPTER II. 

GUY AND HIS GRAND AUNT. 

An hour later Mrs. Withington and Guy Hurlbert sat 
beside the glowing grate fire, in the latter’s room at the 
hotel, lunching together from a small table, spread with a 
bountiful supply of such dainties as the boy had never before 
enjoyed ; for since his remembrance the Hurlbert’s had 
been bitterly oppressed with poverty. 

“ Now, Guy,” spoke his aunt, after they had finished 
their lunch, I wish you to tell me all you can recollect 
about your father’s and mother’s last days, and what has 
become of your little sisters. It was your father’s dying 
request that I should take Baby Olivia home with me, not 
expecting then, of course, that your mother would follow 
him so soon ; but I now plainly see it to be my duty to 
take you all back home with me. You must not be left 
in this heartless city alone, without kindred or friends.” 


GUY AND ni8 GRAND AUNT. 


11 


“ I am afsaid you found me too late, dear Auntie, for 
that. When mother died, the clergyman came to the 
house from a mission chapel to say prayers before she was 
carried away to the grave ; and when he saw how poor we 
were, said he would come back and take Olivia to a nice 
place where she would be taken care of by a kind lady. 
We children didn^t go to’the grave, it was so cold and such 
a long way off, and then there was no place for us to ride 
but in the undertaker's wagon. So the good minister said 
he would see her buried, and say a prayer for us at her 
grave, and when he came back he would see what could be 
done for the rest of us.^' Here he bowed his head, and 
wept aloud, as if a fresh wound had entered his aching 
heart. 

Don^t cry so hard, poor child ! And did the clergy- 
man come back, as he promised asked his listener, whose 
eyes were swimming with tears of sympathy. 

*‘Oh, yes, he came back ; but before that, my grandpa 
came from Chicago, my dear mamma’s father, and took 
away sister Gracie. He said she was the only one of us 
who looked like mamma, and he would not take baby nor 
me, because he said we were just like papa ! I didn’t know 
we had a rich grandpa till that day, and I was dreadful 
sorry to lose dear sister Gracie. I told grandpa I had 
rather work and take care of her, than have her go 
away so we could never see her again. Because he said 
she must forget us, and be his little girl after she went to 
live at his home in Chicago. But he took her away, say- 
ing she would starve to death if she stayed there with us in 
that cold room. So before the clergyman came back from 
the grave, baby and me were left alone without any fire or 
supper. But grandpa gave me two dollars and some 
change, and told me to buy something to eat and some 
coal for a fire, charging me to let the missionary take 
Olivia. He said I was big enough to work for my living. 


12 


GUY AND HIS GRAND AUNT. 


and that the two dollars would keep me from starving till 
I could find work.” 

“Did the clergyman return that day for your little sis- 
ter, Guy ?” questioned his jn’cserver, tearfully. 

“ Yes, auntie, they came that night just after Gracie 
was taken away ; and, oh, you cannot think how dismal it 
seemed there after dear Gracie was gone, and 1 didn^t have 
any one to talk to me iu the lonely room where papa and 
mamma died. Olivia cuddled up in my arms and said she 
was sleepy, and I rocked her in the little chair ma used to 
get her to sleep in, and when she had gone to sleep I cov- 
ered her up in the bed, and went out to get a basket of coal 
and some bread and milk for our suppers. When I got 
back, the clergyman was there, and the lady with him had 
taken sister up and dressed her in a warm new frock and 
stockings, and little kid shoes, and was just putting a cloak 
around her to take her away. I tried to have her eat some 
of the bread and milk I brought home, but the lady told 
me to keep it for myself. Then I went and got the little 
gold locket that mamma gave me when she died, that I 
was to keep for baby till you came to take her, and told 
the lady I must put it on her neck because ma had left it 
for her. After the minister had said a prayer and gave me 
fifty cents they went away, and it was so dreadful dismal 
then I wished I could die and go to pa and ma and here 
the boy broke down again, and leaning his head upon his 
aunt^s sympathizing bosom, bedewed her merino dress with 
tears. 

“ What was in the locket which your mamma left for 
the baby, Guy 

“ Papa^s likeness on one side, and mamma's on the 
other. Ma woke from a long sleep and called me, and 
asked if you had come, and said she dreamed you came and 
couldn't find baby anywhere. Then she gave me the locket 
and told me what to do. If you ever came, she said, I was 


GUY AND niS GRAND AUNT. 


13 


to give it to you to keep for Olivia, and if you didn’t, I 
must put it on her neck myself and tell whoever took her 
that she must always keep it to remember her parents by, 
and that some day it might be of great good to her. Then 
I took the locket and put it in the great Bible on the table, 
and she turned and shut her eyes again and said she was 
cold and tired. She looked dreadful white, and I was 
frightened and called to her two or three times, but she did 
not answer. So I went down-stairs and asked the woman 
to come up and see what was the matter with mamma. 
And when she looked at her she cried, and said she was 
dead. Then I ran for the clergyman of the mission chapel 
where I went to Sunday-school, and he did all the rest 
about the funeral, with Aunt O’Reilly’s and a lady’s help 
who came from the mission house with him.” 

Now, Guy, you may stay here by this comfortable fire 
while I go out uptown and buy you a nice suit of warm 
clothes. To-morrow, we will go over to the old house, and 
see what there is to take away as remembrances of your 
father and mother, and then we will start for home. You 
can have plenty to eat and wear now, my boy, without 
having such a burden of care on your young shoulders.” 

So saying, Mrs. Withington again put on her cloak and 
bonnet and took a Broadway car for an uptown clothing- 
store, in quest of a decent outfit for her newly found grand- 
nephew. 

The next morning, they went together to the old tene- 
ment-house where Guy had learned so many bitter lessons 
of sorrow and poverty, gathered together the few remnants 
sacred to his boyish heart, and left the same afternoon for 
Boston. 


14 


guy’s new home. 


CHAPTER III. 
guy’s new home. 

The air was keen and frosty, and the trees were shim- 
mering with their icy coating in the morning sunlight, 
when Guy Huribert and his grand aunt alighted from the 
street car at her suburban home and walked briskly up the 
hill to the little cottage. A plenty of nourishing food and 
the warm suit of clothes provided by his benefactress, had 
worked wonders with the boy. A ruddy glow had begun 
to creep into his once pale cheeks, and his liands, which 
for several years had been exposed to the pitiless cold and 
storms of winter, were now encased in warm, woolen mit- 
tens. His spirits seemed to rise with this strange new tide 
of prosperity and plenty. He wondered in his boyish mind 
why he had never before noticed the beauty of nature’s 
frost works, and the glistening ice upon the shrubs and 
trees. Heretofore cold winds, ice and snow meant starva- 
tion and distress. Now he looked upon them as God’s 
most beautiful handiworks ! How little it requires some- 
times to make the most forlorn and destitute of human 
beings comfortable and happy ! And yet, how that little 
is withheld by those who would never miss it from their 
bountiful store ! 

Guy was too full for speech. He kept pace with his 
aunt’s brisk steps, now and again pausing to look at the 
evergreens hanging low with their burdens of ice, glitter- 
ing like the crystal prisms from a cathedral chandelier. 
His fairy land was very different from that into which his 
sister Grace had been ushered in her grandfather’s house. 
Her’s was the more seductive warmth and beauty and 
luxury of art. His the glow and sparkle and glory of 


GUY'S NEW HOME. 


15 


Nature at midwinter. — the trees and shrubs and evergreens 
arrayed in their gemmed coronets of ice. 

Mrs. Withington opened the unpretentious gate at each 
side of which fir trees kept guard as with polished bayonets 
dazzling in the morning sunlight. She was greeted by her 
bushy-headed maid-of- all- work, Margaret, who had waited 
anxiously for the arrival of her mistress three mornings in 
succession, fully expecting to see the little girl she had 
gone to bring home. 

“ Sure and it^s glad to see yez that lam! but where’s 
the little gurrel yez went afther ? I hope she’s not turned 
into a bye, sure 1” casting an anxious glance toward Guy, 
who followed his aunt’s lead into the snug, warm dining- 
room, and placed her traveling bag, which he carried, 
upon the haircloth lounge. 

“ The baby had already found a good home before I 
reached there, Margaret ; but I have taken my nephew, 
instead, to live with us. Now get us some breakfast; for 
we are cold and hungry after eur tedious journey,” spoke 
Mrs. Withington. 

“ Sure byes bez an awful bother in a house. They does 
be so noisy !” muttered Margaret, in an undertone, as she 
proceeded to the kitchen to bring in the steaming coffee 
and hot muffins, of which she knew her mistress was par- 
ticularly fond. 

Take off your overcoat, Guy. This room is like an 
oven I” exclaimed his aunt, opening the door to let some 
of the heat into the front hall. It did indeed seem like an 
oven to the boy, who, never since his remembrance, had 
been accustomed to a room very far above freezing point 
in the winter season. Neither had he ever before owned 
an overcoat. They were considered by him as luxuries, in 
which only sons of the wealthy could indulge. It therefore 
did not occur to him that he had such a superfluity to 
remove, before sitting down to the table. The excitement 


16 


guy’s new home. 


caused by the strange, new life, into which he had so 
suddenly come, had made him even oblivious to the fact 
that he was uncomfortably warm in the overheated dining- 
room. In his simple, guileless heart, he wondered if God 
really heard and answered the prayer offered by the clergy- 
man over his mother’s grave, that the orphans might be 
taken care of. He never imagined in his modest mind 
that his own petition to his Father in heaven on that cold 
Christmas night beside his earthly father’s death bed, 
pleading for succor and help, could have been heard and 
answered. It did not seem possible that so humble a cry 
could reach so high as Heaven. 

Why don’t you eat your muflBns while they are warm, 
child ? For my part I feel real hungry,” and Mrs. With- 
ington took her nephew’s cup to add more hot coffee. 

I feel too full to eat, dear auntie. I have had so 
much to eat and such nice warm clothes since I found you, 
that I don’t feel one bit hungry this morning.” 

Well, child, that will never do. You must eat a 
good, hearty breakfast this cold day, because I shall want 
you to do some errands for me bye-and-bye. And then we 
will go to the school-house and see about getting you into 
the intermediate department. I find you have learned 
considerable at home. Who taught you, my boy ?” 

Pa, after ho was too ill to work or go out. I never 
went to school after I was seven,” sighed the boy, who was 
a natural student, and who longed for a chance to attend 
school. “ But am I to go to school, now, dear auntie ? 
Oh, that will be so grand ! I shan’t be ashamed to go now 
with other boys in such nice clothes as these. Am I 
to wear this suit to school, or keep it for Sunday ?” asked 
the boy, looking proudly upon his neatly fitting trousers 
and coat. 

You can wear this to school and on Sunday also for a 
while, Guy. And after the Spring season commences and 


GUYS NEW HOME. 


17 


I have more money for dress-making, you shall have 
another suit for best,” replied his aunt, moving away from 
the table, and directing Margaret to clear the dishes from 
it, after she had eaten her own breakfast, as she wished to 
use the table for cutting out work that morning ; for Mrs. 
Withington had only the dining-room for her dress-making 
work and allowed her one servant to eat her meals there 
after she had quit the table. 

Margaret sat down rather moodily, as she was greatly 
disturbed at their new acquisition, poured a cup of coffee, 
and drank it in silence, eating only half a muffin. Then 
she arose, gathered up the dishes, and carried them upon a 
tray to the kitchen. Her mistress paid no apparent atten- 
tion to this sulking fit (for on the whole, Margaret was a 
good and faithful servant), but seemed absorbed in some 
plans for her nephew’s future. 

Guy sat at the window, his eyes riveted upon the glory 
of the winter morning in its immaculate robes of snow and 
garniture of crystal ice. 

I should be very happy, dear auntie, if I could only 
have Grade and Baby Olivia near by, where I could go and 
see them, sometimes when you could spare me ; but,” he 
added, sadly, I fear I shall never see them again ! Are 
you the only relation my father had. Aunt Hannah ?” 

“ I am the nearest living relative, my dear. Your 
father had an older brother who was accidentally killed by 
being run over on the railroad track up beyond Harlem, 
somewhere. It happened several years before your father 
was married, and before your grandfather Hurlbert died. 
He was a smart young man, so they all said, but unfortu- 
nately he sometimes indulged in strong drink, and it was 
reported that he had been drinking at the time of the acci- 
dent. He was taken to the nearest hospital, and when 
inquiries were made by your grandfather, he was informed 
that his son was dead and had been buried in Potter’s Field 


18 


gut’s new home. 


for lack of any friends to claim the remains. Three years 
afterward I was married, and left my home with your 
grandfather, whom I followed from England several years 
after he fled from there by eloping with the daughter of an 
earl, Lady Grace Rumford. The next year both your 
grandfather and grandmother died, leaving your father 
alone in the world except myself, his father’s sister. He 
had a talent for art, but of a different character than his 
father’s, who was an English opera singer in London before 
his flight with Lady Grace. He studied landscape paint- 
ing with an artist in New York, and after he felt sure he 
could give lessons understand ingly, he went to Chicago, 
thinking in a new city he could obtain more pupils than 
in New York. I heard from him once or twice while there, 
and he seemed encouraged both in his art pupils and the 
success he had writing for newspapers and magazines. At 
length his letters ceased, and, although I wrote several 
times, never heard again until that day your mother wrote 
that her husband was dying, and begging me to go to them 
at once. Do you know your mother’s name before her 
marriage, Guy ?” 

No, auntie, dear ; I never heard either papa or 
mamma say anything about it.” 

‘LBut, did not your grandfather tell you his name 
when he came to take away your sister Grace ?” 

No, ma’am ! And now I am very sorry I did not ask 
him ; but I felt so unhappy at losing sister, that I forgot 
everything that I ought to have remembered, I suppose. 
I feel sure that grandpa wouldn’t have told me his name, 
though. He might be afraid t^t I should try to find 
him, and want to see Gracie, or try to take her away with 
me. Auntie, don’t you think that some time before I die 
I shall meet her ? Oh, if I only was sure of that, I could 
be real happy ! And dear little baby, too ! Oh, don’t you 
think that sometime the good lady who took her away, will 


MRS. WITHINOTON. 


10 


find me, and bring her here to yon ? If she only knew 
you had come for her, it seems as if she would give her up 
to you !” and the boy broke down with smothered sobs and 
fast flowing tears. 

"‘Let us talk of something else, Guy, now. Try to 
remember that God is just and merciful to all his creatures, 
and though the paths of duty are often dark, if we do right 
and trust ourselves to His guidance, light will beam upon 
us at last. We will go to the school committee, and see 
about your entering at once for the Winter term. Your 
studies will help you in a great degree to forget the sorrow 
through which you have passed.” 

^ His a,unt’s cheerful words of encouragement seemed to 
inspire him with hope and courage, and he dried his tears 
at length, put on his cap and mittens, and they went 
together to the schoolhouse to make arrangements for his 
acceptance as a pupil in the intermediate department. 


CHAPTER IV. 

MRS. WITHI2?GTOI^. 

In order to give my readers a brief sketch of this good 
woman’s earlier history in America, it is necessary that 
they follow me down among the grand old forests upon the 
sliores of Eastern Maine. For it was there she met her 
fate — that is, if a woman’s husband may be called such. 

Mr. Withington was one of the stalwart sons of the old 
Pine Tree State, and the owner of an immense tract of 
land on its eastern coasts, now the site of a famous sum- 
mer resort, known as Sorrento, and onco Wankeag Neck. 


20 


MRS. WITHINGTON. 


Where, then, a few scattering farm-houses, which 
scarcely protected their inhabitants from the biting blasts 
of Winter, dotted the shores of Frenchman's Bay, now rise 
imposing villas, with all the improvements of a modern 
watering-place. Here hundreds of thousand dollars have 
been lavished upon elegant residences, and the social lights 
of many a city are attracted hither by the acknowledged 
charms of this new resort opposite Bar Harbor. 

If Mrs. Withington could have seen, forty years ago, 
what a prize she possessed as a legacy from her late hus- 
band, it might have all been different with her. No sound 
of steam-engine then broke the stillness through those 
dense woods. The stage from Bangor was the sole depend- 
ance of the inhabitants of Sullivan and its adjoining 
towns, and it is only since the Maine Central railroad has 
cut its way through the heavily timbered forests, that this 
great and wonderful place of resort has been fully devel- 
oped. Although there were a few pilgrims who had found 
their way to this Mecca of Maine, and who came many 
weary miles by stage and boat, perchance, to worship at the 
feet of the grand old Mt. Desert Mountains, its beauties 
were comparatively unknown. 

But to return to Mr. Withington, and what might have 
been his widow’s fortune had she lived her life later in the 
nineteenth century, we find him prominent, among the 
lumber dealers of those shores. His three hundred acres 
were rich in the heavy growth of timber, then the virgin 
forest, into which he had introduced the sacrificial axe for 
speculative purposes. He fioated lumber through the 
waters of Frenchman’s Bay into one of Maine’s mightiest 
rivers, and competed with some of the now dead or retired 
lumbermen of Bangor. 

He was successful for two or three years ; but the mar- 
ket at length became surfeited ; western productions came 
to the front and gradually eclipsed the hitherto appre- 


MRS. WITHINQTON. 


21 


ciated woods of the Pine Tree State. Mr. Witliington 
was a sufferer among the rest, and even a greater one, 
from the fact that he honorably paid his workmen and 
took whatever remained for himself. When this great 
crash came upon him, he had been married two years to 
Guy HurlberPs grand aunt. The Hurlberts seemed to be 
a family singled out for romantic marriages, not only in 
their native land, but in that of their adoption. It proved 
that Hannah was no exception to the rule. There have 
been many remarkable first meetings between those whom 
the gods have smiled upon in the marriage relations ; and 
yet it is doubtful if there is a case on record more romantic 
than the first meeting of Hannah Hurlbert and Alonzo 
Witliington, all the more so, perhaps, because it occurred 
amid these grand old forests between a city maiden, and a 
native of the rocky wonderland, then comparatively 
unknown except by traveling artists and a few romantically 
inclined New Yorkers, who visited it by fatiguing miles of 
stage travel, and were willing to subsist on clam broth and 
fish chowder, with an occasional piece of dried apple pie 
for dessert. And since the history of our heroes benefac- 
tress will be of interest to the readers of this tale, they 
shall have the romantic portion of it. 

As is already known, Hannah followed her brother 
from England some years after he had eloped with the 
daughter of the Earl of Rumford, and was pursuing his 
chosen profession upon the lyric stage of New York city. 
Of an industrious nature, she declined to be supported 
through the generosity of her brother, whose means were 
limited, except at times, when a successful engagement 
had re-imbursed the great tenor singer. Then, money went 
as easily as it came, in treating his brother artists, who 
were less successful than he. His lady-wife naturally 
knew nothing of the little arts of household economy, and 


22 


MRS. WITHINQTON. 


SO there were many times when they scarcely had food 
enough to supply the hungry mouths that must be fed. 

It was at one of these times of famine, that Hannah 
conceived the idea of learning the art of dress and cloak- 
making. After a year’s experience in the same establish- 
ment where she had learned the trade, a wealthy lady 
became the patron of her employers, and always chose young 
Hannah, who was courteous and agreeable, as well as dex- 
terous and ingenious in inventing ways and means whereby 
the unshapely figures of the customers could be made to 
look their best in the garments of her design. 

This customer chanced to bo one who was among the 
pioneer visitors to the charmed shores of Frenchman’s Bay. 
A caprice seized this lady to ask the young modiste to 
accompany her hither one Summer, to keep herself and 
daughter’s wardrobe in fresh repair, as the latter part of 
the season was spent in Saratoga, and she wished that 
everything should be in readiness for the gayeties there. 
Nothing would distract the young girl’s mind from her 
task, in a dull country town such as Sullivan then was, 
the lady thought ; and it would be an act of kindness to the 
girl to take her away from the sweltering city in summer. 
So it was all duly arranged between them, that Hannah 
Hurlbert should accompany them to the shores of French- 
man’s Bay. 

As the journey and its preliminaries will not be of 
especial interest to the reader, we will pass them, and give 
the romantic story of Hannah’s adventures and capture of 
her husband. 

Mr. Withington, and some of the men employed to carry 
on his lumber shipping, lived in a rude cabin, composed 
of rough boards, and carpeted with branches of spruce and 
fir. Near this was a pasture where blueberries and rasp- 
berries grew in abundance, and through which Withington’s 
men usually passed on their way to the thickly wooded 


MKS. WITHINGTON. 


23 


forest where the lumber was cut. To this blueberry pasture 
young Hannah had learned the way, and not being aware 
of the prevalence of wild beasts, which then prowled around 
those shores, went fearlessly hither, basket in hand, to 
gather the delicious berries. The fourth visit to the spot, 
however, proved to be her last one alone. 

As she neared the place where an acre or more of 
burned ground was red with luscious raspberries, she noticed 
a black looking object moving around among the bushes. 

^‘What can it be?” she soliloquized. Surely there was 
never a dog so large as that creature !” 

She was soon greeted by a deep, low growl from his 
royal nibs, and then her heart stood still with terror. The 
truth flashed upon her dazed brain that she was in immi- 
nent danger of being attacked by a hungry bear! 

There neither seemed to be safety in remaining where 
she was, nor yet in retreating. The thought of being 
devoured alive by this beast, and the dreadful suspense 
such a calamity would cause her brother in the distant city 
she had left a month previous, drove her to desperation, 
and she threw down her basket and walking stick, made a 
plunge for the nearest spruce tree, and by some incredible 
dexterity, climbed to its topmost limbs. Providentially 
the bear did not give chase until she was out of his reach. 
But she was cornered for the nonce, and knew not how long 
her foe would watch the premises. She might be forced to 
remain thus all night, or what would be equally terrible, 
be kept there until nightfall, and be forced to And her way 
home through the darkness of a moonless night. As one 
can easily surmise her reverie was not a pleasant one. She 
clung to the rough branches, vainly trying to And a limb 
upon which she could safely sit, but was obliged to aban- 
don all attempts to rest save upon her feet, which stood 
on one of the stoutest branches. Thus, at the mercy of 
the beasPs caprices, she waited, trembling between hope 


24 : 


MRS. WITHINGTON. 


and fear, for bruin to return, to bis burrow. After half an 
hour of this dreadful suspense, which seemed almost an age 
to the prisoner, there was a rustling among the underbrush 
in the opposite direction from her enemy. Believing this 
disturbance to be another ferocious beast, she shrieked 
aloud in her terror and helplessness. But her cries had 
this time reached human ears, and a stalwart young man 
emerged from the fallen timber and tangled brush, to the 
tree where Hannah still clung hold of the prickly branches 
with torn and bleeding fingers. 

He bore an axe upon his shoulder ; as he was bound for 
the Withington forest; and he bade the frightened girl 
cling fast to her shelter while he encountered her foe with 
the axe. With this injunction, he bounded to the spot 
where the brute was crouched, and leveled the axe at his 
head. One blow convinced bruin that his pursuer was 
stronger than he, and with a fierce and hungry howl he 
retreated to his lair. The young brave’s next step was to 
free the frightened girl from her now uncomfortable 
perch. He bade her descend to one of the lower branches, 
and drop herself into his outstretched arms. Without 
hesitation she obeyed, and was quickly caught in his strong 
arms. But she was too exhausted from fright and her 
efforts to keep her balance upon the limb, to be able to 
walk a step when she reached the ground, and so her pre- 
server carried her in his arms to Mr. Withington’s cabin. 

The owner sat at an improvised desk figuring over his 
account books. He arose quickly at the abrupt entrance of 
the wood-chopper, with his strange burden, hanging limp 
and helpless from his sinewy arms; and without asking any 
questions, prepared a place to put her on one of the rude 
hunks which served for beds. Some hot drink was at once 
prepared and given her, which soon restored her strength 
sufficiently to enable her to relate the blood-curdling tale. 
Of course the young lumber dealer had nothing else to do 


A WAED MISSION. 


25 


but fall in love with the fair stranger who had thus been 
miraculously saved from the jaws of the hungry bear. It 
was unmistakably his duty to do so, and he performed that 
duty manfully. The wooing was short, and Hannah Hurlbert 
celebrated the ensuing Christmas in a small frame house on 
the eastern shores of Sullivan, as Mrs. Hannah Withington. 

It was three years later that he was brought home to 
his young wife weak and helpless from hemorrhage of the 
lungs, and never again rallied sufficiently to leave his bed. 
His business affairs were badly tangled, and there was 
nothing of account left his widow but this tract of land, 
that no one would buy, and could scarcely be given away 
at the time of his death. 

Finally, about a year later, she was offered one hundred 
and fifty dollars for it by a distant neighbor, who bought it 
more out of pity to the dressmaker than anything he 
expected to realize from it. With this money she went to 
Hollywood, where we left her at the close of the last chapter, 
commenced anew her business, and thus managed to keep 
the wolf from her humble door. 


CHAPTER V. 

A WAED MISSION. 

The ward mission house, to which the reader’s attention 
is called in this chapter, was located in a portion of New 
York City where liquor saloons, shabby tenements, and 
offensively disreputable houses abounded. 

Women who went out by the day, to work or beg, came 
to this institution to have their childrep cared for until 


26 


A WARD MISSION. 


their return from work at night. To this mission house a 
remarkably bright and pretty little girl was one day 
brought to be cared for for a few hours. The woman who 
took her there was well dressed, and had the appearance 
of a lady. She informed the attendants in the nursery 
department that she had adopted the child as her own, 
and that she only wished to leave her there until she could 
attend to some business uptown. The child was carefully 
dressed in rich warm garments, and therefore formed a 
singular contrast to the other unfortunate waifs, who were 
placed in the infant ward and left to get along as best they 
could with the care of one attendant. She looked much 
like a bright rosebud in a garden of ungainly weeds, and 
it was not long before she had attracted the attention of 
every child in the room. She being the youngest among 
them, the others at once undertook her protection and 
the guiding of her tottering, footsteps around the nursery 
floor. 

While they were thus engaged, the sound of music 
from a hand organ arrested their attention, playing just 
outside the nursery door, and they ran into the hallway 
leading the ‘^new baby,^’ as they termed this child. The 
pranks of the monkey, attached to the organ by a string, so' 
amused them and engrossed their thoughts, that they 
ventured outside the door, to where the organ -grinder^s 
boy was passing around a dirty old cap for pennies. The 
Italian gabbled glibly to the boy for a few minutes and 
pointed toward the children, and then covered up his 
organ, strapped it across his back, and in a few minutes 
left his amused audience staring after him as he dis- 
appeared around the corner. The boy did not follow the 
father, but turned toward the nursery door and commenced 
talking with the children. 

Suddenly a frightened scream was heard from the little 


A WARD MISSION. 


27 


stranger, and the children were terrified at seeing her borne 
fleetly away in the loathsome embrace of the Italian boy. 

fi’he alarm was immediately given by the nurse, when 
she learned the truth, and detectives — so called by courtesy 
— were detailed to search every street in the vicinity. But 
their efforts were just as fruitless in this case as they are in 
most instances where offenders of the law escape detection 
and punishment. After a few hours of pretended search 
the officers reported it a hopeless case, and abandoned it 
altogether. When the lady who left the child there 
returned to take her away she was greeted with the appall- 
ing intelligence with which the reader is already familiar. 

Meanwhile, the stolen child was carried by her captor 
into the miserable street in which the organ-grinder lived, 
dragged down a rickety flight of stairs into a basement of 
the most filthy character, and delivered to an old woman 
who sat upon a bench smoking a clay pipe. The poor little 
creature seemed paralized with fright as this dreadful 
woman siezed her in her dirty, coarse arms, and began to 
examine her clothing. 

There were no windows in this honuble den, and a 
smoking oil lamp furnished the unsteady glimmer of light, 
which only served to make the dark corners more visible. 
There was no ventilation, and the air was so foul and 
sickening, that only those bred in filth and squalor could 
endure it for any length of time. 

“ Where did ye git this fine dressed brat from ?” ques- 
tioned the half-drunken woman, with a coarse chuckle, that 
appeared to proceed from the depths of her puffy throat. 

The boy rehearsed the story of the child’s capture, and 
received a penny for his pluck from his proud mother. 
Heretofore she had begged through the streets with the 
pitiful tale that she had small children at home, who had 
nothing to eat or wear, and in her rounds had been given 


28 


A WARD MISSION. 


several faded and soiled frocks, some of which were about 
the size of those worn by this little unfortunate. 

She went to the dilapidated bunk in one corner, which 
served for their bed, and drew out the greasy bundle of 
clothing, and began to overhaul them. She selected the 
most ragged and filthy suit among them, and handed the 
child to the boy, throwing the clothes down beside him, 
and refilled her pipe with tobacco, as she found the liquor 
she had just swallowed as the boy came in, had taken such 
powerful effect that she could not remove the girl’s clothing 
herself. 

‘‘Strip off them fine clothes now, the young one is 
scared enough to keep still, and look out you don’t get no 
dirt on ’em neither. They’ll sell for a good price. Yer 
dad needn’t think he’s goin’ to have all the whiskey they 
bring. I’ll have my share, he can jest bet,” she mumbled, 
hoarsely, giving the boy a cuff, as if she thought he was in 
league with his father against herself. 

The boy commenced the delicate task of taking off the 
dainty robes from the terrified child, and in his haste to 
get through as soon as possible he overlooked the little 
worsted under-vest, which perhaps saved the child from 
otherwise certain death by the cold, to which she was ex- 
posed the next day in the streets, where she was taken to 
beg with. In a short time he had transformed the little 
fairy into an unsightly bundle of filth and rags, then he put 
her on the dirty floor, rolled up in such a shapeless wad 
that she could not have handled her feet, even if she had 
not been paralized with fright. 

By this time the organ-grinder came down the basement 
steps, bending beneath the burden strapped across his back. 
He put down the organ, and looked at his stolen goods 
with a satisfied grin. 

“Good lots money for she clothes, old woman,” he 
mumbled in broken English, pointing his skinny fingers to 


A WARD MISSION. 


29 


the terrified child. What ’ee done by ze good new 
clothes her had on 

“ What’s the matter with ye, old man ? Can’t ye see 
nothin’ ? There they be, close on to ye !” 

The Italian’s eyes twinkled like a snake’s in ambush, 
and he jumped up quickly and clutched the little garments, 
reached for his greasy old cap, and was about to flee up the 
steps with them, when his attention was arrested by the 
old woman, who caught him by the arm, and shaking her 
tremendous fist in his face, yelled fiercely : 

‘^No, you don’t! I’m goin’ to have my share o’ the 
whiskey them things get. I put the clothes I begged my- 
self on the young’un, and I’ll tear ’em off agin ef you 
don’t take this bottle and git it filled for me!” handing 
him a black bottle which she pulled from her capacious 
pocket, and giving him a knock on the side of the head 
with it. 

The man seemed considerably subdued by the diplo- 
matic proceeding on the part of this tyrant in petticoats, 
and he took the bottle with the promise that it should be 
filled for her individual benefit ! The child was put upon 
the straw bunk, and covered with a soiled and ragged quilt, 
as the cold and fright and foul air had acted like an opiate 
on her nerves, and she had fallen asleep. 


30 


A DAY m THE STREETS 


CHAPTER VI. 

A DAY IN' THE STREETS. 

The next morning the old woman awoke cross and 
benumbed from the effects of the liquor brought to her the 
night before. A small dram, however, before she took her 
morning meal, partially restored her spirits, and made her 
garrulous and quarrelsome. 

“ Ye can’t have the boy to take in the pennies for ye 
to-day,” she growled to the organ-grinder as he commenced 
to puff upon his pipe, which did’nt seem to be in any better 
trim than the old woman that morning. 

‘‘Why can’t me have ze boy? What him got to do?” 

“I’m sick, and can’t go out with the brut beggin’ to- 
day. He’ll have to take her, and go ’round the streets 
near by. I’m goin’ to bed, and have another drink o’ 
whiskey, and see if I can’t cure my bustin’ headache!” and 
suiting the action to the word, she tipped the bottle, and 
took several swallows of the fiery fluid, and then tumbled 
over on the bunk. The Italian by this time had succeeded 
in getting his pipe lighted ; and telling the boy to take the 
girl and go out as his mother had bidden him, he strapped 
the organ across his back, took the monkey from the cor- 
ner in which he was tied, and started on his daily rounds 
of grindings. The boy snatched up the little creature 
crossly ; for he had much rather gather in the pennies for 
his father than go around with the child inventing 
stories to tell those he accosted in the streets. But he 
knew what the consequences would be when the old woman 
come out of her stupor, if he did not obey, and so went 
reluctantly at his task. 

He walked slowly up the dirty and icy street, pull- 


A DAY IN THE STREETS. 


31 


ing the child after him, and dragging her sometimes on 
her knees, v/hen her little feet tripped and she could not 
stand upon them. He turned into the Bowery, and looked 
around for some one to attack with the pitiful tale he had 
been fabricating. 

** Please, kind lady, help a poor boy as hain’t got no 
father nor mother, and has got his little sister ter buy 
bread for ! We hain’t bed no breakfast nor no supper last 
night, and the baby’s been er cryin’ all the mornin’ fer 
victuals !” A five cent piece is dropped into his dirty hand 
by a working girl, who is hurrying on to the shop, where 
she stitches on shirts all day for the pittance of thirty-five 
cents. 

This good luck encourages him, and he takes the child 
up in his arms now, lest the next person he accosts will ask 
him why he lets the little baby sister walk. 

“ Good sir ! will you give me a few pennies to buy 
sister and me some bread ! Ma is home sick in bed, and 
hain’t had nothin’ to eat for two days. God bless ye sir ! 
can ye spare — ” 

“ Get out o’ the way ! ye dirty little beggar ! It’s a 
foine lie yer tellin. I know ye, and yer ould father too. 
Ye’ve changed yer business from taken pennies fer yer dad, 
to goin round wid borrered babies. Get out o’ this ! round 
here imposin’ on honest workin’ folks 1” 

This unlooked for snub somewhat abashed the bold 
boy; and he gave the poor little thing a pinch on the arm, 
to make her cry, as he passed on to the next person to renew 
his petition for charity. From some he received kicks and 
curses, and from others pennies and old clothes as the case 
might be ; and at noon he went back to the poverty 
stricken row, from which he started in the morning, with 
nearly a dollar in money and several garments for his 
mother and the baby. 

He had just turned into the street in which he lived. 


32 


A DAT IN THE 8TEEET8. 


when he met a stout Irish woman coming out of her door 
with a pitcher, after milk at the corner grocery. Now 
Mary Malony knew this organ-grinder’s boy, and of the 
mother’s taking stolen children around to beg in the 
streets. She was a kind old soul, and she very well knew 
that this child could be none other than a borrowed or 
stolen one. She accosted the boy, and asked him whose 
child he had in his arms. 

That’s none o’ your business, as I know of,” he 
replied ; “ but I’ll tell ye all the same, that she’s a nice 
one I found yesterday, all dressed up. I won’t tell ye 
where though, and I ketched her and ran home with her as 
dad told me to !” 

The kind-hearted woman looked at the pinched face of 
the little girl, and thought of the dear baby she had buried 
the year before. She wondered if it would be possible to 
get the child away from this boy, and thus save her from 
the terrible life which awaited her with those beggars and 
vagrants. 

Can the little wan walk alone ? I notice yez carry 
her in yer arms ?” inquired Mrs. Malony. 

Walk ? You jest bet she ken !” and he put her upon 
the sidewalk to demonstrate the fact. 

She caught the child in her fat arms, hurried back to 
her tenement, and slammed the door in the boy’s face, who 
had followed her to recover the shrieking child. 

Once inside of Mary Malony’s homely apartments, she 
was as tenderly cared for as the straightened circum- 
stances of the kind-hearted woman would admit. She 
gave her a plunge bath in the foaming soap suds, in which 
she had boiled her customers clothes, and put on a com- 
fortable woolen frock that had been worn by her own baby 
the year before. Then she heated some milk, crumbled 
bread into the tin dipper, and fed the half-famished child 
with a well scoured plated spoon. She rocked her in the 


A DAY IN THE STREETS. 


33 


creaky old chair which had done service since her first year 
of housekeeping. The tears gathered in her tired eyes and 
rolled down her lobster-colored cheeks. 

^‘The poor, dear little cratur, she’s sobbin’ in her 
slape, intirely. The saints be praised that oi come acrost 
the young divil as sthole her !” she muttered to herself, 
audibly, rocking to and fro with renewed energy. 

Here her one sided conversation was interrupted by 
the entrance of her leige lord, who had come from his 
day’s work with his coal shovel through the handle of his 
basket, and balanced upon his broad, fat shoulders. 

Faith, and oi’ve had a harrud day of it, woife. Divil 
a bit o’ worruk could I foind since tin o’clock this morn- 
in’. By all the saints, phat iver have yez there ?” turning 
suddenly around and seeing the child on a warm woolen 
blanket by the blazing hot stove, where his wife had placed 
her, while she got the supper upon the table. 

Shure, Moike, I don’t know mesilf, phat I’ve got, 
but the poor spalpane was stholen intirely by the owld 
organ-grinder’s bye, what lives down in the basement at 
the fut o’ this row. I was afther goin’ out fer milk for 
me tay at noon toime, and I met the bye wid the little 
girrul in his dirty arrums, takin’ her home from beg- 
gin’.” 

‘‘Ah! the young divil ! the polace ought fer to know 
the capers them organ-grinders bees up to, shure.” 

“It wuden’t make any difference if they did, Moike. 
They’re a bad lot thimsilves, and I thought I’d be shure 
the poor little cratur wus taken care ave mesilf.” 

“But phat’ll yez do wid the spalpane, sure? It’s 
harrud worruk enough yez have now, and she’s nothing 
but a barbey, to be watched and tinded, nather.” 

“ Shure, don’t I know that, Moike ? But the poor lit- 
tle cratur must be taken care ave, and wan o’ these days 
she’ll be owled enough to run arrants.” 

2 * 


84 


AFTER EIGHT YEARS. 


Begorry, it’ll be manny a day forninst that toime 
comes. But niver moind. Phat’s that ye’ve got for sup- 
per ? By all the saints, a foin mate poie ! Ah, shure 
yez can kape the spalpane for all oi care I” 

Mrs. Malony tucked the sleeping girl in a little trun- 
dle bed she had always managed to stow away somewhere 
in the narrow space they occupied (since it called to mind 
the lost baby she had so many nights watched over beside 
that low couch), and carefully covering her up, poured the 
tea, and she and Mike sat down to their hardly earned, and 
well-relished evening meal. 


CHAPTER Vir. 

AFTER EIGHT YEARS. 

Tempus fugit! Eight years have wrought a great 
change in Guy Hurlbert. In all these years he has never 
received any tidings from his sisters, and this is the sever- 
est trial he has had to bear. As we look in upon him to- 
day in his aunt’s sewing room he is hard at work over a 
diflBcult problem in algebra. 

“Guy, my boy,” spoke Mrs. Withington to this manly- 
looking youth beside her; “are you fully aware that you 
are eighteen years old and have grown so stout and strong 
that I cannot realize that you are the same boy who sold 
newspapers in the New York street cars eight years ago ?” 

“I suppose Auntie, the change is more obvious to you 
than to myself, although I shall never forget how forlorn 
and destitute I was when I met you in that street car eight 
years ago ; nor shall I ever lose sight of the fact that you 


AFTER EIGHT YEARS. 


35 


have toiled for my support and education ever since, my 
dear aunt. I have been tliinking of late that I should try 
to hunt up a position in some wholesale commission house 
or banking concern in New York after I graduate from the 
high school next June. I think it is time I did something 
for you in return for all your kindness to me.^’ 

“Perhaps, Guy, I might do better with my dress- 
making there, I should like to make the experiment at any 
rate.” 

“But it is impossible to tell whether you could get 
work enough to live upon or not, and then there would bo 
the additional expense of selling out here and commencing 
anew there.” 

“Well, there are more people to be clothed there, 
and more money to spend for dressmaking than here, in 
this obscure town. And then, if you have determined to 
look for business there yourself, I shall certainly go to 
make a home for you. And my business is growing less and 
less every year, now that so many of the ladies here go into 
Boston to get their dresses fitted, and make them at home 
on their sewing machines.” 

“Yes, Auntie; but have you counted'the extra expense 
of living in a city like New York? I wish young men 
could step into positions whereby they could make money 
enough to support those they loved who were working 
themselves into their graves to keep soul and body 
together. If I could make money as fast as I should like, 
I would search the country over to find Grace and Olivia, 
and bring them home, and I would take care of you alto- 
gether. 

“You forget, Guy, that you might meet some young 
lady in the near future, who would put all those generous 
plans for your sisters and old aunt to flight forever.” 

“Do you think that I would allow any girl to come 


36 


AFTER EIGHT YEARS. 


between me and ray duty to you and tbe children, 
Auntie?” 

'“No, Guy, not intentionally, surely. But your sister 
Gracie is not a child, she is a young miss of fourteen, and 
the baby Olivia nearly eleven. How time flies!” 

“ Yes, but I sometimes wish it would fly more speedily 
than it does. I think if Grace were only a woman, instead of 
a young girl, she would defy the wicked restrictions of my 
grandfather, and try to find her brother and sister and come 
to them, even though he disinherited her as he did our 
mother. I shall never forget those bitter words from him 
in the old tenement that winter morning eight years ago. 
They burned their way to the hearths core. Ah, me ! it is 
a hard world for some people ; and those who are the most 
heartless and ungrateful seem to be the ones who are most 
prosperous. The wealth and pleasures of this world flow 
into their baskets from every avenue, and yet they continue 
to oppress the poor, and take away even the meagre happi- 
ness they might possess.” 

“ Yes, Guy ; but it is better to suffer wrong than to do 
wrong ! ” replied his aunt, with honest simplicity. 

“ That is true ; but it makes me very dissatisfied with 
your lot and mine. Auntie, and the more I think of it the 
more rebellious against fate I become, although, I am well 
aware that such repining will not mend matters one whit.” 

“ Perhaps it is just as well to think about something 
else — ^things we can understand better, and that will be of 
more use to us in getting through the hard places in life, 
Guy. It may be that some day you will be in as good 
circumstances as your rich and proud old grandfather. We 
can never tell who fortune may favor ! ” 

“ If I am not rich till I make it myself, it will take till 
I am as ‘ gray as a rat,^ as the saying goes. People don’t 
get wealthy on five or six dollars a week salary. That is as 
much as most of the young men in stores and commission 


AFTER EIGHT YEARS. 


37 


liouses can command. But I should be glad of even that 
to commence with, if I could work my Avay up in a few 
years.” 

You remember more about the great city and business 
houses there than I supposed you could, leaving it so 
young,” replied his aunt. 

“ Yes ! I shall never forget my father’s words, when 
mother told him I should soon be old enough to earn some- 
thing in a store or wholesale house. She thought it would 
reconcile him to giving up work, when he was too ill and 
weak to bear the fatigue. They were talking over the 
prospects I had of getting a place, but father said despair- 
ingly, that even if I could obtain a place, the pay would 
scarcely be enough to buy the extra clothes I would need to 
keep looking respectable, beside other boys, in business 
houses. I never forgot those hopeless words from my sick 
and dying father, and it always distressed me to tliink I 
was a burden upon those who struggled so hard to keep us 
children from being the poorest and most degraded of street 
beggars ! ” 

*‘No! no! Guy! not degraded! that could never be, 
with your sensitive natures and the Hurlbert blood in 
your veins.” 

‘'And yet, it seems my grandfather thought the Hurl- 
bert blood far inferior to his own. He seemed to brand 
poverty as a crime, and judged the quality of blood by the 
quantity of worldly goods one possessed. If I could ever 
hope to buy my grandfather’s good will far enough to be 
able to be on friendly terms with dear Gracie, I should be 
glad to be rich. I don’t dread poverty of a wholesome 
kind so much for myself, as for what it brings upon those 
who are near and dear to me. It was poverty that killed 
my mother and separated me from my dear sisters, and 
brake our hearts almost, and made us old in early youth.” 


38 


AFTEE EIGHT YEARS. 


And Guy arose and paced the floor with rapid strides 
in the intensity of his emotions. 

‘‘ Do you think there is any use for you to attempt to 
find a situation in some banking-house or office in Boston, 
Guy ? If you could, it would be much better by saving the 
cost of board. You could take a lunch with you, and I 
would have dinner at night on your return ; I should like it 
that way just as well.” 

Oh, no. Auntie, that can never be ; I have been look- 
ing in Boston for the last three months for some such 
position, and there are about five hundred young men to 
one situation. It is only a waste of time, unless one has 
influence outside of their own ability. The high school 
boys all say the same thing. If they have rich and influ- 
ential friends and relatives it is comparatively easy to 
obtain positions ; but a poor wretch like me stands no 
chance around here.” 

You are a strange boy, Guy ! One would think you 
twenty-five, instead of nineteen, to hear you discuss the 
realities of life !” 

I have had bitter lessons. Auntie, and I cannot forego 
them. To be sure it has been different since I lived with 
you ; but I can see how hard a battle you have to fight to 
provide for yourself and me. It is all sacrifice on your part 
for me. I have not been any help to you, as I have 
attended school all the while, and studied when at home 
till bed time ! And yet you would have done still more, 
and sent me to college, if I would have allowed you to 
make such a sacrifice, and accepted of your hardly earned 
money to appropriate thus !” 

Why, Guy, you would make an excellent lawyer. You 
can plead a case so touchingly that judge and jury would he 
convinced that your client ought to win the case ! You 
think it is no use to try to get a position in Boston ; but 
will New York be any better, think you ?” 


MBS. MALONY SEEKS A NEW HOUSE. 


39 


‘'Well, Auntie, there are more positions ; and then there 
are not so many educated and good principled young men 
there looking for places. Boys who go there from Boston 
and other eastern cities can obtain places much easier than 
New York boys themselves. So with my education and 
abilities to endure hard work and live on small pay, I think 
I might stand some chance of success I” 

“ Well, young wiseacre, perhaps you are right. But if 
you go I intend to go with you. I can do as much better 
with my dressmaking as you can about getting a position !” 

And so it was settled in their minds, at all events, that 
New York was to be their future home, and hereafter we 
shall see how they succeed in the great metropolis to fight 
the wolf from their doors. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

MRS. MALONY SEEKS A NEW HOUSE. 

Mike Malony came home one night with the startling 
intelligence that the row in which they had lived for twelve 
years was to be torn down, and they must get out in less 
than a week. 

“ Tlie Lord be praised for that !” ejaculated his wife, 
as she poured the tea into the immense cups, and handed 
Mike the mutton stew. 

“ Whatever do yez say the Lord be praised for, when iPs 
the Divil’s own doin’s, turnin^ us poor worrukin' folks out 
o^ doors right in the heart o^ winter.^^ 

“Faith, oi say so because I mane it, Moike. Oim as 
plazed as oi can be, to get out o’ the awld shanty, sure.” 

“ AVhereiver is the gurrel, woife ? It’s two cowld fer 


40 


MRS. MALONY SEEKS A NEW HOUSE. 


the young cratur to be out this late ; and thin she moight 
be led astray into some bad place, intirely,” grumbled the 
head of the house, who felt very much out of sorts and in 
a faultfinding mood. 

Sure oi had to sind her up in the Bowery with the new 
gintleman’s washin\ Oi hadn’t the toime to go mesilf.” 

In the midst of this discussion the young girl came in 
with the empty clothes basket upon her round arm, rosy 
from her walk and the frosty atmosphere, wearing a small 
red pumpkin hood over her auburn curls, and a bright 
worsted shawl around her graceful shoulders. Mrs. Malony, 
with the advice and consent of Mike, had christened their 
young charge Pansey Bloom. She was such a bright little 
creature (her round face and velvet-like eyes set in a frame- 
work of golden brown hair) that even this prosaic old wash- 
woman thought she ought to bear some name belonging to 
the floral sisterhood. She had passed the age when Toddie 
and birdie and sugar plum could with propriety be applied to 
her. “ Pansey ” seemed to just fill the bill in her protector’s 
estimation. The good woman was still waiting for the 
child’s mother to claim her, and for some reason, or scruple, 
peculiar to one who thinks she has no right to claim 
another’s property or children, she did not call her by their 
own Hibernian name, nor did she attempt to instill the 
Catholic faith into her young mind. 

Pansy went to her small couch in the comer of the 
room and removed her outside wrappings, smoothing out 
her glossy hair, as she laid aside her hood in a pasteboard 
box, and came to the supper table with a smiling face, 
where she sat down between Mike and his wife. 

“ Faith, child, and oim glad yez have come home. Oi 
thought mebbe yez had had the bad luck not to foind the 
gintleman in.” 

I did have to wait for him, Auntie. But he said he 
was sorry he kept me so long,” and he gave me this money 


MBS. MALONY SEEKS A NEW HOUSE. 


41 


for myself, besides paying for the washing,” and she held 
up a silver half dollar, to the astonishment of Mike and 
his wife. 

“ Phat the divil did he give the child all that money 
for. I belave his intintions were bad intirely. He might 
lade the young girrnl asthray, bad lack to him !” and 
Mike brought his fat fist heavily down upon the uncovered 
board table. 

*‘Sure, thin, yez needn’t scare the child to death, 
Moike ! She didn’t know there was airry thing wrong 
wid takin’ the money from the gintleman !” and the much 
irritated Mrs. Malony turned to the young girl, who trem- 
bled like a culprit at Mike’s apparent wrath. 

‘'There, there ! poor little Pansey, Mike didn’t mane 
it, sure ! No doubt the gintleman was plazed wid yez, 
and the clothes as Avell ” — for she did not underrate her 
own work — “and it was no sich a bad thing for him to 
reward yez for fetchin’ the washin’ this cowld night.” 

“ Here, Auntie, please take the half-dollar. I do not 
need it, and it will buy soap and starch for the next week.” 

“Sure it wud burrun me ould fingers, if oi took it 
from yez, whin the gentleman gave it to yez to kape for 
yez own spindin’ money. Yez can put it in the little box 
wid the rest o’ yer trinkets, and kape it till some toime 
when yez’ll made it more than yez do now, which toime 
the Lord forbid will iver come though,” she added, crossing 
herself in a most devout manner. 

“ Thank you. Auntie ! you are very kind to me. Per- 
haps that some day I can do something to help you.” 

“ Sure yez are a great hilp to me now ! But I’ve got 
some news to tell yez, child. We’ve got to be afther mov- 
in’ out o’ here this very wake. This tinniment is goin’ to 
be pulled down ! Sure, thin, phat a scampering there’ll 
be wid rats and mice, as well as the tenants.” 

“ Oh, I am so glad. Auntie. Can’t we go up somewhere 


42 


MBS. MALONF SEEKS A NEW HOUSE. 


above Grand Street, in a nicer part of the city, to live ? 

I think I can get something to do to help pay the rent. 
Oh, if we could have two rooms it would be ever so nice !” 
And the child’s eyes sparkled with her modest anticipations 
of future elegance ; wondering if they could ever arrive to 
a floor covered with matting or ingrain carpeting, such as 
some of the girls mothers had, who went to her school, and 
lived above Grand Street. 

^^Well, child, maybe we can. Ate yer supper, now, 
and we’ll see about that in the morning. Oi’ll be afther 
goin’ out to look fer a place, soon as iver I git the breal£- 
fast out o’ the way, sure and the kind old creature 
poured Pansey a cup of strong tea, which she declared 
wild take the cockles out o’ the child’s hairt !” an expres- 
sion which it is to be hoped she understood herself, 
although it is rather doubtful if she did. 

The young girl drank her tea and ate her mutton stew, 
very absent-mindedly, for her thoughts were wandering 
beyond the dingy walls of that humble room, and visions 
of future grandeur, treading over carpeted floors in a new 
home, flitted through her imaginative young brain. She 
possessed a hopeful temperament, and even while she sat 
at that unpainted board, and ate mutton stew with these 
coarse people for her companions, in spirit she was roaming 
in far-off lands Elysian. 

Just at this time she was revolving in her mind the 
feasibility of investing the money given her that might in 
decorations for the new house. A smile lighted up her 
bright face, and she took the half-dollar from her pocket, 
and turned it over reflectively, as if trying to estimate its 
value. 

How far will this go toward buying a carpet for our 
new home. Auntie ? I would ever so much rather you 
would take it for that than to lay it by for myself.” 

Faith, and oi’ve a good bit o’ money laid by ave me 


MES. MALONY SEEKS A NEW HOUSE. 


43 


own, child, and maybe we’ll have the carpet. I don’t 
want any of your money. Some day you may nade it 
yersilf ; perhaps when oim dead ye’ll want it for a night’s • 
lodgin’ ; but may the howly saints prevint such bad luck 
inti rely.” 

The next morning, after Mrs. Malony had put up 
Pansey’s and Mike’s lunches, one for the school-house, and 
the other for his day’s work, she started on her search for 
another tenement. She traveled miles in her weary rounds, 
and came at length to a high brick house in Broome Street, 
several blocks west of the Bowery, where a slip of paper 
upon the side of the entrance door proclaimed that there 
were ‘‘Rooms to let on the top floor. Inquire within.” 
She dragged her tired feet up four flights of stairs, and 
rapped loudly on the first door she came to. It was opened 
by a haggared looking woman, with a sick infant in her 
arms. 

“ I’ve called to see about rintin’ these rooms, mam. Is 
it yersilf that can tell me how much they charge a 
moonth ?” 

“ Oh, yes. We have the whole floor, and the rent is 
more than we can pay. We don’t need but two ourselves, 
and so the landlord gave us permission to rent to some 
respectable family. Have you children, mam ?” 

“Sure, no. Only a young gurrel oi took that belonged 
to a family of gintle blood, mam — leastwise I suppose they 
must have been of gintle blood. She’s a foine young 
gurrel, indade, mam, and is nigh liven years owld, too ! 
Thin there’s Moik — that’s me owled man — and mesilf. 
That’s all, mam. How much do ye charge for the rint ave 
the two rooms ?” 

“Ten dollars a month for a small family without 
children. Do you take iii washing, or go out to work by 
the day ?” 

“ I takes in all oi can get, sure, and sometimes I goes 


44 


MRS. MALONY SEEKS A NEW HOUSE. 


out to worruk. Can oi have a place to hung clothes on 
the roof ?” 

Yes, if you take your chances when the other tenants 
are not using it. There are six families that use the roof 
for their clothes, and five more below who have the back 
yard.” 

Mrs. Maloney began to think her chances were slim 
among so many who had the prior right. But then, she 
knew that it would be next to impossible to have every- 
thing to her mind, and in another place, some more 
troublesome obstacle might present itself. At all events, 
it looked more like a decent place for habitation than the 
one she had occupied so many years. And then she 
thought how pleased her little Pansey would be with such 
a respectable looking tenement, and it was up above Grand 
Street as the young girl had wished. Kind old soul ! she 
always thought of pleasing others in her plans. 

After looking into every niche and corner and dark 
closet of the two rooms, she decided to take them, with all 
their drawbacks. So she gave the weary looking woman 
three dollars to bind the bargain, and trotted back home in 
time to get supper for the ravenous Mike. 

The next morning, Pansey, who was so delighted at the 
prospect of moving out of that despised tenement that she 
was almost beside herself with excitement, obtained per- 
mission to stay away from school, and help her benefactress 
to pick up their few earthly possessions, and get ready to 
move. She fiew from one thing to another, as if her life 
depended upon haste, and on the whole, Mrs. Maloney 
concluded she was more bother than help ; since in her 
hurry and flutter she threw cups, saucers and plates into 
the same box with iron ware, without so much as wrapping 
a cloth around them, and then looked up for more dishes 
to pack. She seemed so happy in her employment, that 
the kind old soul let her go on, and then followed her 


MBS. MALONY SEEKS A NEW HOUSE. 


45 


around and took them all out again, and wrapped them 
carefully up to prevent their total destruction when they 
got into the hands of the truckman who moved them. 

At length the last article was snugly packed, and when 
Mike came home to his supper, he was informed by the 
tired woman that he must eat his supper from the top of 
a barrel, and sit on the wash-biuch ; fer all the rist o’ the 
things was packed up ! ” 

The Lord be praised that I get any supper at all this 
night. Glory be to goodness we don’t have to move ivery 
month. Phat did yez pack all the chairs in thim owld 
quilts and sheets fer to-night ? Yez don’t expect to move 
before morn in’ sure I ” 

Why, bliss yer soul, Moike ! the man is cornin’ before 
siven o’clock in the mornin’, and oi want to be all reddy, 
sure ! Now ate yer supper and be aisey wid yez !” 

Mike obeyed, as meek as a lamb ; for the stew was hot, 
if he did have to eat it from a tin dipper with a rusty 
spoon, and sit upon the wash-bench instead of a chair. 

Mrs. Maloney awoke from her disturbed slumbers in 
the morning, more tired than when she laid down the 
night before. They all slept on some quilts thrown upon 
the floor, for she would not hear to Mike, when he asked 
if they could not take a mattress or straw bed from the 
ponderous pile of household goods that stood up in the 
corner at the door ready to be loaded on to the wagon as 
soon as it was daylight. 

Faith, and it was a bad drame I had last night, 
Moike !” she said, rubbing her watery eyes, and sitting 
upon the quilt wadding, her hair in a pug behind. Me 
slape has kind o’ gone asthray on me. Not a wink did oi 
get till long afther midnight, and thin oi had a terrible 
drame, intirely !” 

Faith, and no wonder yez did have bad drames, tryin’ 


46 


MRS. MALONY SEEKS A NEW HOUSE. 


to slape on the fleur wid nothin’ but a quilt undernath yer 
owld bones !” 

Sure, Moike, I dramed that yez was brought home to 
the new tinniment all sthave to paces, and kilt intirely !” 

‘‘Sure, oi wud be kilt intirely, if oi had to slape on 
sich a harrud fleur as this another night !” 

Pansey, child, are yez most drissed ? If yez are, put 
on the petaties and tay kittle ; oi don’t fale jist right ; but 
oi’ll get over it whin oi drink a cup o’ tay, mebbe.” 

Pansey was dressed in a few moments, and busy obeying 
the tired woman’s orders. She was very anxious to get 
out of that dreadful den of confusion, which was made 
more unendurable than before by having every article of 
comfort packed up, and leaving nothing but the bare and 
desolate floor and dingy walls. The child felt her life 
growing harder each day to bear. Although she met with 
nothing but kindness from either Mike or his wife, it was 
hard for her to mingle with such rude, though well-mean- 
ing people, and never hear the sound of aught but coarse 
voices, nor look upon anything but loathsome tenements, 
tired women, and sickly and dirty children, such as lived 
in the neighborhoods where the Maloney’s were obliged to 
live. 

I am going to try and find something to do to earn 
my own living !” she soliloquised, as she poked the fire 
and put on fresh coal. I wonder if I couldn’t get into 
one of the stores on Grand Street or the Bowery for a cash 
girl ; I can read and write well enough now to leave school. 
And then I have studied grammar and arithmetic, too. 
Poor Auntie cannot afford to buy my food and clothes 
much longer, and she’ll have to pay more rent in the 
new house 1” 

The wather is biling in the tay kittle, Pansey ; Jist 
put the tay a drawin’ and oi’ll fry the mush mesilf. Oi’m 
a dale bether thin oi wus whin I first waked up !” 


A HOME OF LUXURY. 


47 


This sudden command, or request, brought Pansejr^s 
reverie to an abrupt termination, and she made haste to 
put the tea in the pot and pour the boiling water upon it. 
The three then hurriedly swallowed their breakfast of fried 
mush and boiled potatoes, and just as they were through, 
the truckman drove up to the door and began to load on 
the goods, throwing things hurriedly and promiscuously 
into the cart, regardless of Mrs. Maloney^s screams of ter- 
ror, lest everything would be-broken in pieces. When the 
last article was on the load, Mrs. Maloney and Pansey 
mounted upon the top of the truck, and turned their 
backs forever upon that desolate row. 


CHAPTER IX. 

A HOME OF LUXURY, 

In a light and airy music-room in a sumptuous up-town 
residence, a young and handsome girl sits at the piano 
beside her music teacher. This is the mansion of Major 
Henry Dunn, the senior member of a large banking house 
down in the vicinity of Wall Street. 

This young girl is counting with monotonous tone : 

One, two, three, four ; one, two, three, four V* while she 
runs her shapely white fingers over the yielding keys. It 
is Saturday morning, and as school studies are over for the 
week, she has to practice an hour longer this forenoon 
than on other days of the week. 

A young lad, two years her senior, thrusts his brown 
head and pink cheeks as round as apples, into the room 
from the open door le.tding into the side hallway, and calls 
out in clear tones ; 


48 


A HOME OF LUXURY. 


“ Come, Helen ! arn^t you nearly through with that 
everlasting * one, two, three, four ?’ All the boys and 
girls are going sleigh-riding in the park at eleven o^clock, 
and mamma says we can go, too, when you are through 
with your lesson and practicing, if papa will let us V* 

I should think there were considerable many obsta- 
cles in the way of our going, if all you say has to be done 
first. It is not always so easy to coax papa to let us go 
where we wish to. But who do you mean by all the boys 
and girls, pray, Mr. Rattlebrains T* 

“ Come, Queenie, don’t be sarcastic I Why, the high 
school boys and girls, to be sure ! Who else could I mean, 
do you suppose ?” 

Are they all the boys and girls in New York in your 
estimation ! I should presume there were a great many 
others, Jasper. But never mind. I’ll be through in an 
hour ; and then we will see what can be done by way of 
coaxing papa to let us go and the young beauty turned 
around to her piano again and resumed her task of count- 
ing time, and manipulating the polished keys. Her 
cheeks flushed a bright pink hue, and a coquettish smile 
lurked around her dimpled cheeks ; for the young girl felt 
very much flattered at Jasper’s apparent impatience for her 
company. 

As for the lad, he turned reluctantly away from the 
music-room, and thought an hour seemed an eternity to 
wait for the consummation of his hopes. Helen was his 
only dependence as intercessor with his step-father, and he 
was very anxious that he and the young girl might be per- 
mitted to go on this sleigh-ride with the other pupils in 
the high school, which tiiey attended together. 

Jasper loved this adopted sister next to his own mother, 
and he sometimes caught himself connecting her with all 
his plans — boyish plans though they were — for the future. 

For a time he lingered around the hallway leading 


A HOME OF LUXURY. 


49 


from the music- room. But time dragged heavily with 
him, and he whistled and drummed upon the stair rail- 
ings, and finally, failing to amuse himself, he went up- 
stairs to his mother’s room, and rapped hastily upon her 
door. He burst into the room at her call to come in, and 
threw himself upon a chair in a vexed and irritated man- 
ner, exclaiming : 

Oh, mamma, I think it is a shame that Helen should 
have to stay in that old music-room and drum on the 
piano a whole hour longer. I wish she would go and ask 
papa if we can go out sleigh-riding with the high school 
scholars.” 

‘^Well, my son, I see no other way than for you to 
submit to it as cheerfully as possible. You must recollect 
that sister Helen has the hardest of it, my dear.” 

Yes, I know she does, and that is why I am more 
anxious that she should leave the tedious thing till some 
other day, when there is nothing in particular going on. 
But Helen is awfully hateful to-day, and she snubbed me 
shamefully, and turned back to the piano as if I was of no 
more consequence than a poodle dog. I’ll have my say 
some day ! See if I don’t.” 

Hush, my son. It is not right to talk like that about 
your sister in her absence.” 

She isn’t my sister !” answered Jasper, hotly ; for he 
was an impulsive, thoughtless youth, and sometimes forgot 
himself, even in the presence of his lady-mother, whose 
kind heart always prompted her to defend the absent, and 
rebuke what she thought injustice of speech or action. 

Jasper flushed crimson at this reproof, and stammered 
a somewhat reluctant apology for his thoughtless words of 
anger. 

‘‘I fear papa will go down town to business before 
Helen gets through prficticing. He always leaves here at 
ten, you know.” 


60 


A HOME OF LUXURY. 


Very true. I did not think of that. You may go to 
Helen and say that I think she had better not practice 
after she has finished her lesson to-day. She can make up 
some other time. I should like very much to have you 
both go on the sleigh-ride, as it is seldom there is snow 
enough for such fine sleighing as there is to-day.” 

Jasper needed no urging to do as his mother suggested. 
He bounded out of the room, boy fashion, and hastened 
down to the music-room again. Pushing aside the half- 
open door, he looked toward the piano, only to find it 
closed and vacated. Helen was not in the room. He 
turned and went back up the stairs, two steps at a time, 
and re-entered his mother^s room. 

She is not there, mother, and the piano is closed.” 

Perhaps she has already gone to Mr. Dunn, Jasper,” 
suggested his mother. 

^*It may be she has. I wonder if I dare go to the 
library door and listen ?” said the youth, half to himself. 

Had I better, mother ?” 

It may be just as well to wait, as Helen will surely 
come to you as soon as she has his permission to go, my 
son,” she replied, with a shade of sadness in her face, 
grieved that Jasper stood in such dread of his step-father. 

Poor little woman! She had begun to feel her mar- 
riage relations with Major Dunn a yoke of bondage, and 
her son a victim to his unreasonable caprices. 

His granddaughter was more favored. It pleased him 
to see her bristle up, and assert her power, even though it 
was exercised over himself, which it frequently was of late. 

This morning the caprice seized her to steal away and 
join her school companions without JaspePs company. 
She took a sort of enjoyment in trying her power over him 
and in giving him to understand that she could be happy 
as well without as with his company. 

It is singular what a vast amount of snubbing young 


A HOME OF LUXDKT. 


51 


men of Jasper’s age will endure, and still cling to those 
who administer the blows at their pride and conceit, with 
untiring persistency. Ten, or even five years later, in 
Jasper’s life, he would have resented such treatment, and 
ignored the queenly tyrant altogether. 

Soon after Jasper turned away from the music-room, 
Helen dismissed her teacher and went to Major Dunn’s 
private library, where he sat surrounded by piles of papers, 
to ask permission to go out sleigh-riding with the party of 
young people before alluded to. The old gentleman 
happened to be in better humor than usual that morning, 
since he had read glowing accounts in his newspaper of 
stocks booming in which he was a heavy speculator. Ho 
was, therefore, in the right mood to grant almost any 
request that did not especially disturb him in any way. 
He answered her brisk rap upon his door in an amicable 
voice for him, at least, bidding her enter. She opened 
the door softly and stood smiling and blushing before the 
usually stern man. She made known her request with 
nervous haste, and in her most humble manner. It did 
not require so much coaxing on her part as she had 
expected to gain his consent, and she left his presence 
flushed and excited with his permission to go, provided 
she wrapped up warmly and Jasper went to be her escort 
and protector. 

Meanwhile, Jasper waited in his mother’s room, with 
what patience he could command, for the young queen who 
held him so completely in the toils. 

At length Major Dunn came out of the front door 
mufiicd to his eyes in his beaver-trimmed overcoat, stepped 
into his waiting carriage, and was driven down to his bank- 
ing-house. Jasper watched him until the carriage was out 
of siglit, and then turned to his mother with a grieved 
expression on his usually bright face. 


52 


A HOME OF LUXURY. 


Where can Helen be all this while ? Papa has gone 
and she must have asked his permission before this time.” 

** Perhaps you had better find Nannie, and send her to 
your sister^s room. It is possible Mr. Dunn has refused to 
let you go, and so she dislikes to tell you the unpleasant 
news.” 

^^Poor Helen!” replied Jasper. know it would 
almost break her heart to be refused now that all the others 
expect us and will most likely wait beyond the starting 
time for our arrival.” 

He hastened to summon the chambermaid, and sent 
her to Helen’s room as his mother had suggested. 

But the girl soon returned, saying that Miss Helen 
was not in her room, nor anywhere to be seen.” 

'^Is it possible that she could have gone alone, and 
without letting either of us know?” spoke Mrs. Dunn, 
starting for the young lady’s room to assure herself that 
Nannie had not made some mistake. Jasper followed his 
mother. They first went to the clothes-press where she 
kept her sealskin sacque and cap, only to find that they 
were gone. It looked very much as if their owner must be 
inside of them somewhere. 

Poor Mrs. Dunn had learned now that she need not 
expect her husband to bid her good-bye — with or without 
a kiss. But it was something new for Helen to leave the 
house before coming to her room and kissing her good-bye. 
It made the kind little woman’s heart heavy to be forced 
to believe that her foster child, whom she had loved next 
only to Jasper, should grow careless and ungrateful. • She 
had noticed of late that Helen came to her less with her 
girlish troubles and joys. 

But this last act of self-will and neglect of duty, if, 
indeed, she had gone where they feared she had, distressed 
her kind heart more than she would acknowledge to her 
son even. 


A HOME OF LUXURY. 


53 


Do you really think she has gone, imther ? Or can 
it be she is somewhere hidden to make us hunt for her. 
Is there a possible place in the house where Nanny has not 
looked ?” 

“ I cannot tell my son ; but I will send the butler at 
once to search the entire premises.” 

Search was accordingly made over the house, and 
the whole family took part in it ; but no trace could be 
found of the missing girl. Then Jasper started for the 
school-house. He ran all the way, in breathless haste, his 
thoughts intent on the one object, which he knew perfectly 
well would prick his fingers, like a chestnut burr, when 
reached. But he was like most other weak and romantic 
youths : he pursued blindly that which would nnike him 
the most unhappy when attained. 

When he arrived at the school-house he was informed 
by the janitor that the party, which included Helen Dunn, 
had been gone fifteen or twenty minutes. He turned bis 
steps homeward with dampened zeal and less speed. He 
dreaded to tell even his sympathetic mother that he had 
been so shabbily treated by one who held such a subtle 
power over him. 

He entered the house and walked slowly up the stairs 
to his mother’s room, where she was anxiously awaiting his 
return. She really hoped he had learned that Helen was 
there with the other pupils, although it meant wilful 
neglect and unkind treatment to her son, and ingratitude 
to herself on the girl’s part. Anything was better than not 
knowing where she was and what had happened to her. 

Well, my son ! did you hear any tidings from your sis- 
ter at the school -house ?” 

Oh, mother, she has gone with the other scholars. 
I did not think she was capable of treating me so shabbily I ” 
and his voice choked with suppressed anger and resentment. 


54 


A HOME OF LUXURY. 


Are you sure she has gone on the sleigh ride, Jasper 
Yes, mother, the janitor told me she had gone with 
the others.” 

“ Well, my son, do not let that foolish caprice of hers 
spoil your happiness for the day. I should like to have 
you be my escort to the opera matinee this afternoon. I 
am sure Helen will be sorry enough that she is not here to 
go with us, and that will be punishment enough for her 
unkind action this morning.” 

Jasper tried to cheer himself with the thought that 
Helen would keenly repent her rashness, and that he should 
have the pleasure of seeing her ask his forgiveness like a 
penitent, as well as the felicity of feeling that, after all, 
he was the only boy companion she had to look to for 
gallantry and protection. 

Mother and son took lunch together in the breakfast- 
room, which was smaller and more cosy than the groat 
frescoed dining-hall. The sweet little woman had suc- 
ceeded in cheering her son to such a degree that his merry 
laugh rang out heartily, when George, the table waiter, 
came in, bringing mushrooms on the tray, and said he 
knew they were not toadstools, because he tried them 
on the coachman first, and they didnT kill him. 

After they were through with their lunch, Jasper 
assisted his mother to get on her sealskin dolman, and then 
went to bid the coachman bring the carriage to the door. 

It was thirty minutes after one when Mrs. Dunn and 
Jasper left the house to start for the opera. Just as they 
had entered the carriage, and Jasper was closing the door, 
Helen came up the gravel walk, her face as brilliant as a 
damask rose, and smiling as if nothing remarkable had oc- 
curred, She stepped briskly up to the carriage to inquire 
where they were going, and on being told, sweetly asked if she 
could accompany them. Mrs. Dunn looked toward Jasper, 


A 6T0EM IN A PALACE. 


55 


and seeing the pleading expression on his face, told the young 
lady she might go, and so she was not condemned to an 
afternoon of solitude as she deserved, after all. 


CHAPTER X.. 

A STOKM IN A PALACE. 

When Major Dunn returned from business on the day 
of the sleigh-ride, he was in very bad temper. He had 
learned through his coachman that Helen went with the 
party without Jasper, and he was angry at her daring dis- 
obedience, as he termed it. He went hastily to his wife^s 
room and demanded an explanation. 

Why did you not send Jasper with Helen on that 
sleigh-ride to-day, Mrs. Dunn. I told her positively that 
he was to go along to take care of her. It was not suitable 
for a young girl like her to go unattended in that 
manner !” 

I did not know that she was going until she had 
gone, Mr. Dunn. She did not come to tell me, and 
Jasper waited a long time for her, expecting every minute 
that she would come and let him know if they could go by 
your permission,” replied his wife. 

Then she is the culpirt. I’ll make her understand 
that hereafter my orders are to be obeyed ! I believe I 
shall be driven distracted between that boy and girl ! It 
seems I have to do all the managing in this house ! Where 
is the young queen 

In her room, I suppose, sir !” answered tho sorely 
perplexed woman. 

^ In a storm of rage he went to the bell pull, and struck 


56 


A STORM IN A PALACE. 


it three times for the maid. She soon appeared, and stood 
timidly before the furious major, twisting the corner of her 
apron, in nervous confusion. 

What is it, sir 

‘‘Go to Miss Helenas room, and tell her I wish to see 
her in the library, at once !” 

Then he left the room, slamming the door after him, like 
some spoiled boy whose mother had told particularly to 
shut it very softly, or he would be called back to do it 
properly. 

He entered the library, crossed over the soft Turkish 
rug, and threw open the window, calling the porter a 
“ blasted idiot " for turning on heat enough for a Turkish 
bath, and muttering, half aloud, in an injured tone, that 
he “was afflicted with more fools about the premises than 
anybody else in New York.” It is a wonder he did not 
remember that all those “ fools ” were of his own selection, 
and he alone was responsible for keeping them around 
him. 

He settled his fat proportions down in an easy chair, at 
length, and awaited the result of his order for Helen to 
come to the library. 

A timid rap came on the door. 

“Come in !” called the major, loudly. 

“ Please, Sir, Miss Helen is changing her dress for 
dinner, and says she^ll be down as soon as she is dressed.” 
The maid courtesied after delivering this message and 
withdrew. The major moved around in his chair uneasily, 
and finally arose and slammed down the open window, 
muttering to himself audibly, that he must either roast or 
freeze in this badly managed house. 

At length lady Helen appeared at the door, which the 
capricious major had opened when he closed the window. 
She looked unusually handsome in her garnet cashmere 
house dress, tied at the throat and waist with pink satin 


A STORM IN A PALACE. 


57 


ribbons. But there was a slight curl to her proud lips, 
and a defiant manner which presaged opposition to a lecture 
from her grandfather. 

^^Well, young queen, you disobeyed my orders, this 
morning, it seems ! What have you to say for yourself 

She stood twisting her satin sash ribbon, and made no 
reply. 

“ Why don’t you speak ? Are you dumb, or can’t you 
think of any excuse to make for your behavior ?” 

I was not trying to think of an excuse, sir ; I did not 
know you forbade my going without Jasper. You said I 
could go if he went to take care of me ; but you did not 
say I could not go unless he did !” 

“ That is a small hole to crawl out of, I must say ! 
Remember, girl, that for this piece of disobedient folly, you 
will not be permitted to go out in company again this 
winter ! Do you understand me, miss ?” 

Yes, sir,” she replied, coolly, turning to go out, and 
deliberately smoothing her twisted sash. The door closed, 
and she was gone. 

What an old fool I am with that girl. She is like 
her mother, bound to have her own way, and I am a weak 
old idiot to let her have it!” 

The major had made a slight mistake, though, as to 
whom she was like. Never was child more like parent 
than Helen Dunn was like her grandfather. Only she did 
not make so much bluster about having her own way as he 
did. She went about it more coolly and deliberately. 

“What did I let her go from me in that cool and auda- 
cious way for? She shall come back and explain her 
behavior!” he muttered, hotly, to himself. He started for 
the door, and found that she had not yet left the hallway. 

“Come back here to me ; I want you!” 

She slowly retraced her steps, and again stood before 
him. 


58 


A STORM IN A PALACE. 


‘MVhy did you leave my presence witli such an air of 
unconcern? Fll teach you better manners than that, if I 
have to send you to a convent to learn them! DoiFt you 
ever dare to leave my presence again with such impudent 
ways !” 

‘‘Well, papa, I don’t always like to have Jasper with 
me! He is often very cross and exacting. He wants to 
have his own way in everything, and never is willing to 
give up to me. I did not intend to disobey you ;*'hut I did 
want to punish Jasper a little!” 

This speech somewliat appeased her grandfather’s 
wrath, and he began to question her as to her grievances 
about her foster-brothers treatment. 

“ I’ll go to his mother and see if he cannot be made to 
know his place better. He has no business to show his 
fiery temper to you. He dare not to me! I’ll teach him a 
lesson too!” and the unreasonable and changeable old man 
brought his fist down on the writing desk with a hasty 
bang. 

Helen began to regret that she had said anything 
unkind of Jasper; for she feared that he might by too 
much ill nature from her, turn his companionship in some 
other direction, and she be left altogether out of his protec- 
tion. She liked to try her power over him ; but it would 
be a terrible punishment if he should cease to worship at 
her shrine. So she coaxed her grandfather not to say any- 
thing about the matter to Jasper’s mother. In reality, 
there was no one in the whole world she valued so highly 
as Jasper, and her foster-mother came next. She did not 
care a pin for the old man, before whom she was called to 
account that evening. But she knew that he must be 
managed cleverly, or he would not grant her wishes. 
Sometimes honeyed words would accomplish this, and at 
other times it was better to show a spirit of self-will and 
independence. His moods were as unaccountable as they 


A STORM IN A PALACE. 


59 


were fitful, and it required an artist in the study of human 
nature to manage him. Helen’s tact in this matter was a 
natural gift, and not an acquired art, and therefore devel- 
oped in extreme youth. But it often put her to her wit’s 
ends” to understand whether fond words or imperious 
demands would avail with him most. He was never twice 
alike, and so his fitful changes of humor had to be care- 
fully studied. 

would rather not have you say anything to mamma 
or Jasper about what I have told you. I suppose he means 
it all right enough, and it would not be pleasant to have 
words with him. It does not matter much. Perhaps he 
will do better now that I have taught him a lesson by go- 
ing away to-day without him, papa.” 

‘^Well, girl; see that you do not teach him a lesson 
again by disobeying my orders. I believe I shall be killed 
or driven to the lunatic asylum between you. I have more 
important business on my mind than looking after your 
foolish quarrels. Now go to your room, and mind that 
you are not late to dinner!” and he dismissed Helen with 
an imperious wave of his fat hand. 

She had escaped with less punishment than she really 
deserved this time, and it gave her courage to do other 
daring things which ought to have been checked in her 
early years. Perhaps if she had received less indulgence in 
her foolish whims, she would have been a more noble, and 
far less selfish woman than she proved to be in after life. 

As Major Dunn had important business matters to trans- 
act just at this time, he chose to let the unpleasant matter 
between himself and his granddaughter pass, and plunged 
into his pondrous pile of papers and documents, entirely 
oblivious of everything around him. 

The first call to dinner was totally unheeded by the 
absorbed man, notwithstanding he had cautioned Helen 
not to be late. This was usually tlie way he set examples 


60 


A STOKM IN A PALACE. 


for the young people. Those who are always lagging 
behind their appointments are not very successful teachers 
of punctuality. 

At the second call from the ebony waiter the major 
hurried into the dining-room and took his seat at the table, 
at which his wife, Helen and Jasper had been waiting fifteen 
minutes. 

am a trifle late on account of some important papers 
I had to look over,” apologized the head of the house. 

Can’t you make this carving knife a little sharper, 
George ? I may as well attempt to cut with the back as the 
edge of this,” addressing the butler, who had always stood 
in mortal terror of this unreasonable man. George took 
the knife from his master with a trembling hand, and dis- 
appeared through the kitchen door. Meanwhile there was 
an oppressive silence at the table. None of the family 
could seem to think of anything pleasant to say, and so 
preferred to let the major open the conversation, if he chose 
to do so. They had all received a taste of the unreasonable 
tyrant’s hasty ternpei' that evening, and dreaded a fresh 
outburst, if they should happen to hit upon a subject that 
did not suit his present unhappy and disagreeable mood. 
He seemed deeply absorbed in thought, and preserved a 
rigid silence until the butler returned with the carving 
knife. He took it from his hand impatiently, asked each 
member of the family what they would be served to with 
cold formality, and made no attempt at conversation. 
Although everything was served according to the most rigid 
table etiquette, this family had far less enjoyment of their 
evening meal, than Mrs. Malony and little Pansey, who, on 
account of moving the next morning, were obliged to eat 
their humble supper from the top of a barrel and sit upon 
the wash-bench in place of chairs. 

At last the tedious meal was ended, and the family 
dismissed in silence. The major followed his wife up to 


A STORM IN A PALACE. 


61 


her room, and when they reached it, he told her he had a 
little matter of business, about which it was necessary to 
speak with her. By her free consent, when they were 
first married, he took the management of her share of her 
first husband’s money, as well as the guardianship of that 
which should fall to Jasper at twenty -one, who was only 
seven years of age when the present Mrs. Dunn became the 
major’s third wife. She opened her eyes in wonder at this 
speech from him, as she was seldom, if ever, consulted upon 
matters of business by her self-conceited husband. She 
took a seat opposite his, and waited nervously for him to 
speak. He cleared his throat in an embarrassed manner, 
and began : 

We have decided (alluding to his partner) that double 
the business we now do could be done easily with the 
investment of one-third more capital, disposing of our 
house by selling it outright, and taking another on lower 
Broadway. There is now a rare chance to sell this to 
advantage to one of Fairweather’s brothers, who wants a 
banking-house of about as much capital stock, and we have 
one in view, partially bargained for, such as suits us. I 
don’t suppose it makes any difference to you where I put 
your part of the capital, madam ?” 

It seems I have nothing to do or say regarding it, if I 
had objections, and so it would be only a waste of breath 
and needless advice,” replied his wife, with more spirit than 
she had ever exhibited before to her lord and master. 

He coughed a little uneasily, and nettled around in his 
chair as if sitting on pins. 

Well,” at length he spoke ; women do not have 
the burden of business on them, and so they cannot expect 
to have their say about such matters. But, of course, if you 
have any serious objections, I shall look into them, and do 
the best I can to have you suited.” 

Truth to tell, Mrs. Dunn had commenced to repent the 


62 


A STORM m A PALACE. 


folly that prompted her to give all her property into her 
husband^s keeping, instead of waiting to learn what manner 
of man he would prove to be. As it was, she was entirely 
in his power, so far as money matters were concerned, as 
well as subject to his whims in other respects. She had no 
more voice in the management of Jasper than she did in 
that of a stranger. He was step-father, guardian and ruler 
in one, of this young lad, and he ruled like a despot in all 
these capacities. 

For a few minutes after the major’s last speech, both 
sat in silence. Then he broke the spell by sayiug : 

“Jasper will be seventeen next June, and I think he 
had better go into the bank and be learning something 
about business. A good knowledge of banking is better 
than a college diploma. And, as his guardian, I ought to 
see that he does not get foolish notions about a profession 
into his head. "What do you say to putting him to busi- 
ness next Spring in the new banking-house, if we conclude 
to make the change ?” 

“ I sup]')ose ho must do as you think best, since you arc 
his guardian. But if my wishes were consulted in the 
matter, I should say that I preferred he should go to col- 
lege, whatever vocation in life he chose after he got through. 
His father left him suflficient means to complete his educa- 
tion, and start him well in almost any business besides. I 
know it would have been my husband’s desire 'that he 
should have a college education. But that matter can bo 
discussed in future. Do you intend to invest all our 
property in this new banking scheme ?” 

“ Oh, I can not exactly tell at present. I think I shall 
sell this house, however, and rent one less expensive to sup- 
port. I can do better with this capital than making a 
spread with it in mansions. I am getting more sensible 
in my old age. I had rather have money in the bank 
treasury, than in fine mansions. When men get to be 


FAREWELL PAYS IN THE OLD COTTAGE. 


03 


millionaires, they can have things their own way, and every- 
body takes olf their hats to them. There is a great satis- 
faction in that, Mrs. Dunn !” and the major arose, and 
coolly bidding his wife ** good evening/^ retired to his office 
in the library, to look over ponderous piles of documents, 
done up with mysterious seals, and tied with pink tape. 


CHAPTER XL 

FAREWELL DAYS IN THE OLD COTTAGE. 

The lilacs had commenced to reveal their purple linings, 
and the cherry and plum trees emitted a delicate fragrance 
from their bursting buds. A pair of robin-redbreasts were 
fluttering around among the orchard tress, prospecting for 
a place to build their nest. Bees began to be busy gather- 
ing honey from the modest little daffodils and revelled amid 
the brilliant tulip beds. Mrs. Withington sat by the open 
window, breathing in the sweetness, and at the same time 
making button-holes in the waist of a dress for one of her 
customers. Guy sat near her intently absorbed in his lessons 
for the next day, occasionally inflating his lungs and 
exclaiming : 

“ How sweet and refreshing the air is to-night. Auntie ! 
I shall hate to leave this dear old home, and all these beau- 
tiful flowers and shrubs, for the unpleasant and unhealthy 
odors of New York City. I am afraid you will feel the 
change even more than I do ; for you have always been 
accustomed to plenty of sweet, fresh air, and a garden full 
of the most fragrant flowers I” 

It is a great pity one couldn’t live altogether on the 


64 FAREWELL DAYS IN THE OLD COTTAGE, 

fragrance of flowers and pure, fresh air, Guy. But unfor- 
tunately we poor mortals require something more substan- 
tial to keep soul and body together. It is no worse for me 
to breathe the unpleasant odors from Hunter’s Point and 
Staten Island oil factories, than for you. We have a few 
weeks more to stay here, and let us inhale all the sweetness 
we can while we may. There will be time enough to breathe 
foul air, when we get where it is and Mrs. Withingtoii 
passed her needle back and forth witli increasing rapidity, 
as the time was drawing near for her customer to send for 
the dress. 

“ The high school boys say I shall be back again in less 
than three months. Auntie. Some of their friends have 
been out there looking for positions, and they say there is 
nothing to be found worth having. Many of the wholesale 
houses are only paying three dollars a week for young men 
even older than I am, and more experienced in business, 
too ! I don’t see how they can manage to board and clothe 
themselves on that money ; do you ? ” 

‘*I suppose they are young men who either have homes 
in the city, or parents elsewhere, who pay their board while 
they are learning business. They certainly could not live 
on that sum, unless they had some such help, Guy. Now 
you can see the necessity of my going with you till you can 
get started in business; what do you think you should 
prefer to do, Guy, tend in a store of some kind, or keep 
books in an oflBce ? ” 

I should prefer a position in a bank to anything else. 
Auntie. But it may be a year, or more, after I get there, 
before I could obtain such a desirable place. I may be 
obliged to go in a store for a while ; but I shall make a 
desperate effort to find something better as soon as possible. 
I hate to see you working yourself to death for such meagre 
pay!” 

^^Dressmaking pays better than plain sewing, Guy. 


FAREWELL DAYS IN THE OLD COTTAGE. 


G5 


There are hundreds of poor women in large cities who work 
fourteen hours a day, and only earn one-quarter as much as 
I can at cutting and fitting. We must be thankful that 
we are not so badly off as those poor, half paid toilers.” 

Mrs. Withington always looked upon the bright side, if 
there was a bright side of life to turn to, and her grand- 
nephew had a great deal of her disposition. He met and 
faced adversity bravely when in the great city during his 
childhood, and now that he was verging toward manhood, 
he did not flinch from taking up the duty of toil and hard- 
ship, in the hope that before many years he should be able 
to support his kind benefactress. For this end he was 
willing to work early and late, and deny himself of every 
luxury. He was not a modern cigarette-smoking young 
man,” nor did he ever acquire the habit of using the offen- 
sive and expensive weed. He had better uses for his earn- 
ings,” he said, and so religously put them to a better use. 

It was the last week in May, and they only had a month 
more to remain in the pretty, neat cottage, embowered in 
shrubs, trees and flower-beds. They had spent many 
happy hours in this snug little nest. It was beginning to 
grow dearer to them both, now that they were so soon to 
leave it. The sun was fast sinking amid a gorgeous pile of 
fleecy clouds, and lighting the whole heavens with its 
departing glory. The tired woman had put the last stitch 
in the button-holes she was hurrying to flnish, and she 
dropped the basque a moment and gazed intently from the 
westerly window at the artistic touches nature had given to 
the sunset clouds. 

Guy, too, seemed entranced with the beauty spread out 
before him. Though they were poor, and apparently for- 
saken, they had the same right to these heaven-born beau- 
ties that the queen and prince had. The wealthy cannot 
shut out God's wondrous beauties from the poor, although 
they can oppress them in their wages and over work them. 


66 


FAREWELL DAYS IN THE OLD COTTAGE. 


Guy felt a proud ownership in all this magnificence. Just 
as a son feels that he has an heirship to his father’s houses 
and lands. Robins, blue birds and thrushes came and sat 
upon the branches of the gently swaying cherry trees, and 
sang their good-night songs to the enraptured youth, whose 
life lay before him with such dim and often dread uncer- 
tainty. The frogs began a merry concert in the lily pond 
across the garden. Arrows of flame shot up through the 
purple masses of cloud, in which the glorious orb of day 
seemed to be taking his evening bath. Gradually the 
deep gold paled and the crimson faded into blush rose tint, 
succeeded by a silvery blue, and then the evening star 
peeped out from behind a curtain of soft vapor, which 
melted gradually into the opal blue of the sky. All these 
different dissolving views were presented and had passed 
away, and still Guy sat motionless. His aunt had slipped 
away and wrapped up the dress she had finished in a stout 
piece of brown jiaper, and then went out into the kitchen 
to assist Margaret — who was getting old and rheumatic — 
to sprinkle and fold the clothes which she had Just taken 
in from the sweet, fresh grass in the back-yard. 

A pleasant drowsiness fell upon the tired youth’s brain, 
for he had poured over his algebra till ho could think no 
longer. He was a hard and persevering student, and ever 
ambitious to reach the highest mark in his classes. Unlike 
most youths of his age ho preferred a well-stored head to 
the luxury of self-indulgence. But it was getting dark on 
the piazza, where he had gone to catch the last ray of light 
•Apon the open page before him, and so he indulged in a 
pleasant reverie, inspired by the odor of flowers, the gentle 
twittering of birds, and the dying glories of the western 
sky. The god of sleep stole over his senses, and he was 
suddenly transported into dreamland. 

The theory that our dreams are but the continuation of 
our waking thoughts, is not always a reliable one. 


FAREWELL DATS IN THE OLD COTTAGE. 


67 


Altliongli Gny^s weary brain may have been the cause of 
his mysterious dream, it was strange that it should come 
to him after falling asleep amid such an enchanting scene 
as his open eyes last rested upon. 

lie was swiftly borne through dingy and squalid streets 
in his native city ; and then was tugging up the frozen and 
rickety steps with the market basket on his tired arm as 
he used to do when a boy in the old tenement. Then he 
saw that death-bed scene on the cold Christmas night, and 
lieard the feeble voice of his father raised in a last, dying 
benediction. 

Suddenly, he was changed to a full grown man, and 
was walking down Wall Street, looking for a position in 
the large banking-houses. lie stopped before one of these 
stone structures, and looked in at the windows. He saw 
millions of shining gold coins, and a stout old gentleman 
counting them over and over. A voice sounded in his 
ears, loud and rather rough, he thought, saying : 

“ What do you want, young man, some of this gold ?” 

He tried to answer that he did, but would like to get a 
chance to earn some of it. But he could make no sound. 

This was hardly-earned gold, young man, and you 
canT have it ! You must work and get your own money I” 
said the voice. 

Then he turned away from the window, and saw a bright- 
eyed maiden looking over his shoulder at the same gold. 

You can’t have it !” echoed the same voice once 
more ; and then the old man vanished from his sight, 
and the great plate glass suddenly shivered in pieces, and 
fell to the sidewalk, while the shining gold coins Avere 
showered at his feet, and rolled over to the young girl 
beside him. Then he held the shabby old market basket 
again on his arm, and both he and the young girl began to 
gather up the gold coins and put them into it. In 
a few minutes it was filled, and yet it seemed as light as if 


68 


FAREWELL DATS IN THE OLD COTTAGE. 


full of feathers, and he took the young girl in his arms 
and started to run with her and the gold. But a voice 
called after him ; a youthful, ringing voice. He turned 
and saw a handsome young man standing erect, and plead- 
ing that he would give the beautiful maiden to him. He 
could not withstand his earnest request, and so set down 
the basket, and took out some of the gold, threw it in her 
apron, and gave her to the young man, who waited with 
open arms to receive her. Then he turned to pick up the 
basket, and a lovely female hand took hold of it with him, 
and they walked along together until they reached a splen- 
did mansion. She beckoned him to follow her in, and 
he as eagerly obeyed her behests. Then she told him it 
was all hers, and he would not need the gold in the bas- 
ket ; for he should share it with her. And he awoke 
holding this beautiful creature in his arms, and showering 
kisses upon her lovely lips. 

It had been only fifteen minutes since he fell asleep, 
and his brain had ti-aveled over all this space, and he was 
back again on the cottage veranda, with the algebra open 
upon his knee, while his aunt’s voice sounded in his ear, 
somewhat jarringly, it is true, after the winning tones of 
his charmer : Guy ! my boy ! you must have been 

asleep. Come, you had better go inside ; the dew has 
commenced to fall ; I fear you will take cold." 


pansey’b new home. 


69 


CHAPTER XII. 
pansey’s new home. 

Although Mrs. Malouy had in a degree bettered their 
condition by moving, she found that there was still room 
for improvement. She had two rooms instead of one 
cramped up and inconvenient one, it is true ; and the 
neighborhood was not so filthy and disgusting as the one 
from which she had moved ; but all their coal and wood, 
and their own weary limbs, had to be dragged up four long 
flights of stairs ; and this was no small task to perform 
three or four times a day as the occasion required. Then 
there were many very questionable, and some openly dis- 
reputable houses around them. This did not matter so 
much for themselves, Mrs. Malony thought, but it was not 
the thing for a young girl like Pansey to be amid such dis- 
graceful surroundings. 

The woman of whom they hired the rooms was respect- 
able enough, so far as they knew, but it was evident that 
she had a history of some kind, since she gave every evi- 
dence of education and good birth. But something was 
amiss, beyond a doubt. Her husband, if he was such, was 
a course, brutal man, often coming home the worse for 
liquor, and making the whole floor vibrate with his brawl- 
ing tongue. 

The woman took his insolence and abuse with compara- 
tive calmness, and was always dumb when he upbraided 
her. This, Mrs. Malony thought, argued strongly against 
her and their relations to one another. “ No wife that had 
a dhrap of sinse wud stand awl his scoldin’ widout deflnd- 
in’ thimsilves, shure !” she said one day to Mike, when a 
terrible storm of wrath burst upon the helpless woman 


70 


PA.N8EY’s new home. 


from their half-muddled landlord. Mike often attempted 
to interfere in these domestic brawls, which were always 
one-sided ; but he was prevented by his wife. 

Mrs. Malony did not have so much washing to do in 
her new house, either. The old customers had lost track 
of her, and she could not seem to find new ones to take 
their places. Then it was almost impossible for her to get 
the use of the roof to dry her clothes. It was nearly 
always in use by the other and older tenants. Pansey's 
clothes were getting shabby, and she could see no way of 
replenishing them. Mike worked most of the time, it is true, 
but he only earned seventy-five cents per day, and that would 
not go a great way beyond paying the rent, buying fuel and 
food, be it ever so coarse and poor. 

The child came home from school one day with a sleeve 
of her best and only dress torn nearly off. She had been 
playing tag with one of the other scholars at recess, and 
the wild and rude girl had caught her by the arm, and the 
frail fabric, which had first done service in a gown for 
Mrs. Malony, gave way. Poor Pansey was terribly 
alarmed. She knew very well that this dress was her all, 
and that her ^'auntie” had no money with which to buy a 
new one. She thought of her half-dollar, so carefully 
treasured, and wondered if that would buy the calico for 
another, thinking that perhaps she could make it herself 
if Mrs. Malony could get it cut by ‘^exchanging work” 
with some dressmaker in the neighborhood. She was an 
ingenious child at planning. Older heads than hers would 
not have thought of this piece of strategy in nine cases out 
of ten. She had seen some calico in the Bowery, outside of 
one of the cheap stores, marked at five cents per yard. 
She reckoned up how much seven yards would cost at that 
rate per yard, and found she would have fifteen cents left 
for thread and buttons, and so decided that she would 
invest her treasured half-dollar. She entered the room 


pansey’s new home. 


71 


holding on to her tattered sleeve, and looking very much 
as if she had lost her last friend. 

“ What^s the matter wid yer gown, child ? The saints 
protict us if yer sleeve ain^t torn nearly off yez intirely ! 
What spalpane did that, sure 

One of the scholars at recess. Auntie. I could not 
help it. Oh it was dreadful, and all I have got, too f and 
the distressed girl broke down with sobs and groans, and 
sank upon her knees before the amazed Mrs. Malony. 

Hush, child! I know you wern^t to blame. There, 
there, niver moind! Don’t cry so! yez shall have another, 
so ye shall, ye poor darlint! The ould frock aint worth all 
thim tears at all. Oiv’o got a fine new gintleman to wash 
fer on the Bowery, forninst Grand Strate, and I’ll soon aim 
enough to buy another for yez. Now cheer up and be 
aisy wid yez about the ould frock,” and the kind soul 
lifted her in her arms, and rocked her to and fro, as she 
had done many a time when she was a helpless toddler. 

Pansey was very much relieved by her auntie’s” assur- 
ance that the old frock was not worth cryin’ about, at 
all.” But she was fully determined not to accept one 
penny from the hard working woman, who was ready to 
make any and every sacrifice for her sake. But she kept her 
thought to herself on this subject. She mopped the tears 
from her round eyes on her small cotton handkerchief, and 
began to cheer up a little with the prospect of having a new 
dress, and being able to buy it with her own money. Poor 
Pansey ! she was eating her brown bread first,” as chil- 
dren say, who crowd down their impalatable food so they can 
have pie or pudding afterward. It is often the case that 
those who are pinched in childhood, ride in their carriages 
and wear velvet and diamonds in middle life ; while those 
v/ho are pampered and f^ted in early years, fill pauper’s 
graves, and toil when the weight of seventy winters has 
borne them down, with stooping shoulders, and whitened 


T2 


pansey’s new home. 


their locks. The wheels of fortune are ever turning. 

The mills of the gods grind slowly, but exceeding small.” 

Pansey slipped from her comforter^s fat arms, and went 
over to the corner where her little treasures were kept. She 
had several pennies that Mike had given her for holidays, 
now and again, and a little trinket which Mrs. Mt.lony 
gave her one day, saying it might be of use to her some 
time in^finding her parents or friends. She was very proud 
of her precious store of trinkets : as proud as children of 
the rich are with their costly toys and dolls. After looking 
at these treasured trifles for a time, she took up the half- 
dollar, and turned it over reflectively, as she did on the 
night it was given her. She hated to part with it ; for she 
felt that it was the paving-stone towards a dollar, and per- 
haps many more. But she must have a dress ; that was 
certain, or she could not go out doors at all. How was she 
to go up in the Bowery after the calico with that torn 
sleeve ? She studied awhile, and then concluded it was 
best to get her auntie ” to put a few stitches in it, while 
it was on her, and then she could wear Mrs. Malony’s shawl 
to cover up the defects. But she must work very cautiously, 
or the kind old soul would mistrust what she was doing. 
She knew it would be all up if she did, and then the money 
must either come from Mike’s scanty wages, or the new 
gentleman’s washing money. This Pansey could not 
endure. She went to the little dingy basket in which the 
thread and needles for the family mending were kept, and 
took a large needle from the cushion, threaded it with 
linen shoe-button thread, and took it to Mrs. Malony, with 
her glasses, saying : 

Here, Auntie, will you please sew up this dreadful 
tear, so I can keep the dress on till bed-time ?” 

The amused woman took the needle and commenced 
operations. First she pricked her own fingers, and then 
stabbed the girl in the shoulder. Then she balanced her- 


pansey’s new home. 


self against the wall, and succeeded in putting the needle 
ill the torn calico. She took about ten long and grinning 
stitches, and cut the thread, declaring the dress looked as 
good as new. 

Pansey laughed hysterically, and ran to put the needle 
and thread back in the work-basket. 

Oim goin^ out afther some petaties for supper, now 
child, and yez can put on the pot and have the wather 
bilin’ whin oi gets back agin, sure I Moike ^1 soon be 
home.” 

A happy thought struck Pansey. If she could go for 
the potatoes it would be a good excuse to get out, and then 
she would go up in the Bowery and buy the calico and 
bottons for her new dress. 

** Oh, Auntie, let me go, please, and you make the 
water boil by the time I get back. I can put on your 
plaid shawl, and that will cover up my mended dress 
sleeve. May I go. Auntie, dear ?” 

** Au yes, git away wid ye, if yez want to ; oim glad to 
git rid o’ goin’ meself, entirely ! Now don’t run yer 
little legs off. There’s no particular hurry !” 

Pansey’s eyes sparkled with pleasure as the thought of 
the new bright calico dress beamed before her, and the 
possibility of a cotton lace ruffle at the throat. 

She put on her old straw hat, tied the strings under 
her dimpled chin, threw Mrs. Malony’s shawl over her 
shoulders in a saucy, jaunty fashion, and started on her 
mission, with her half-dollar carefully wrapped in a piece 
of paper and tucked in her pocket. 

“Faith, and there’s a gurrel to be proud ave!- Sure 
the prince wud do himself cridit to take her for his wife, 
whin she gets big enough. Faith and there’s noble as 
well as gintle blood afther runnin’ through her veins as 
sure as me name is Mary Mulony,” and as she ended up 
4 


pansey’s new home. 


this speech to herself, she hurried to put on the potato pot 
and tea kettle. 

Pansey walked with rapid steps toward the store in the 
Bowery whei’e she had seen the five cent calico. But what 
was her disappointment when she noticed that it had been 
taken down from the door, and was in all probability sold 
to some one else. 

She entered the store, Avhich was as dark and dismal as 
a tomb, stepped timidly up to the counter, and asked, in a 
clear, girlish voice, for the coveted calico. 

Mine booty leedle gal, ven did you see dot galico?” 

^^The day before yesterday, sir.” 

Veil, it vash all sold pefore yesterday night. It vash 
a great pargain, and I makes me noddings on it. I vill 
show you anodder biece of galico so goot as never vash 
pought pefore, already. It is der pest biece of galico 
in der Powery, for seven cents a yard, a beautiful plue 
golors, to became your complection mit.” 

“ I cannot pay over six cents a yard for my dress. I 
have only got fifty cents to buy it with, and get the 
bottous, too !” said the girl, shyl}^, for the Jew storekeeper 
had come very close to her, and his keen eyes seemed 
almost to pierce her through. 

“ Vifty cents ! Veil, as you are so booty a young miss, 
I vill let you puy seven yards for heluf a tollar. Vat you 
says to dot, hey ?” 

I have to get the buttons with this money, too, and if 
I pay it all for the calico, I should not have anything to 
buy them with !” replied Pansey. 

“Veil, I gif you der puttons mit it ! Vill dot pe satis- 
fining, miss ?” 

Pansey said it would ; and the crafty Jew took a dozen 
Qf white porcelain buttons, worth about two cents, and 
slip])ed them in the package of calico, which was precisely 
the same quality as that which hung out at the door thp 


passet’s new home. 


75 


day before. She took the package^ and swiftly walked over 
the dirty parementa back to Broome Street, and hurried on 
to the grocery store for the potatoes. 

Hare I been gone a great while. Auntie ? I hope 
you haren^t had to wait for the potatoes P’ 

Faith, no ! the fire didn^t burrun worth a cint, and oi’ve 
had to porke and wormk over it half o’ the toime since yez 
left the house. Bad luck to it ! There must be somethin’ 
the matter wid the chimney, sure ! Oi sometoimes wish 
we was back again in the ould tinnament. Phat iver hev 
yez there in the boondle, child P’ 

Pansey went to the cleanly scoured pine table and laid 
her packa^ down, cutting the string and cautiously unroll- 
ing the precious goods. 

“I have bought me a dress with my silver half-dollar. 
Auntie. I hope you won’t be displeased with me ?” and she 
held up the blue calico, very much like a culprit who had 
been convicted of thieving, for the astonished woman to 
pass her judgment upon. 

“ Don’t you think it is pretty, and cheap, too. Auntie ? 
I got seven yards and a dozen buttons for the fifty cents.” 

“ Faith, and it’s mighty purty fer your compliction ; 
Imt I wanted yez to kape yer half-dollar till some toime yez 
might nade it.’ 

“ Yes, I know ; but I must have a new dress now that 
this one is so badly tom, and you have no money to buy 
me one with. If you can do some washing for the dress- 
maker acnDsa the street, perhaps she will cut it for me, and 
then I can sew it myself, I think ! ” and she straightened 
up in a dignified manner, as if proud of her abilities in the 
line of plain sewing. 

But now Mike had reached the top stair of the four long 
fi::ihts, with an appalling groan ; so his wife and Pansey 
were obliged to postpone further planning about dressmak- 
ing, and hurried the potatoes (which were still obstinately 


76 


THE NEW BANKING HOUSE. 


hard, on account of the bad behavior of the fire) and 
warmed-over mutton stew upon the uncovered pine table, 
to which all three sat down with keen appetites and thank- 
ful hearts. 


CHAPTER XIIL 

THE NEW BANKING-HOUSE. 

It was a terrible thing I so Major Bunn thought, at 
least ; but Jasper began to develope an alarming genius 
for painting. He daubed everything he could get his 
hands on, both at the house and bank, from the door 
panels of his sleeping room, to the desk in the office, at 
which he pegged away from nine in the morning till five in 
the afternoon, over rows and rows of figures, in which he 
had just about as much interest as in Chinese hieroglyphics. 

The new banking-house has now been in existence about 
two years, and the irrepressible major has had his own way 
in regard to putting Jasper at the desk in his bank, instead 
of sending him to college, as his mother desired. As for 
the young man himself, he did not care for either college 
or bank. All his aims and ambitions were centered upon 
the one grand inspiration of landscape painting. He im- 
proved every leisure hour at his favorite occupation. He 
had so far enlisted the sympathies of his mother in this all 
absorbing hobby, that she gave him what money she could 
scrape together from her monthly allowance for dressing 
purposes, to purchase materials to practice his studies, 
which were well chosen, and gave unmistakable signs of a 
budding and fast developing genius. 

One day the major suddenly entered the office in which 
his step-son was engaged, to look for a misplaced document. 


THE NEW BANKING-HOUSE. 


77 


and caught him putting the finishing touches on one of his 
favorite studies in business hours. Jasper was by no means 
an eye-servant, nor had be ever before touched artistic 
work during office hours ; but he was entirely absorbed in 
this sketch, and the temptation to improve a few minutes 
of the strong light, which threw a bright halo upon the 
desk just at that time, got the better of his good sense, and 
it seemed as if fate had decreed that his step-father should 
be cognizant of this first and only deviation from the path 
of business duties. Jasper was above concealing what he 
was doing from his guardian. He might easily have slipped 
it under the lid of his desk and taken up his pen instead, if 
he had had the disposition to deceive the old man. He 
colored slightly, however, when his stepfather approached 
him, and in angry tones demanded to know “ what right 
he had to be fooling away his precious time with that 
infernal daubing 

“Just at this hour the light was so strong at my desk, 
I thought it was no particular harm to put a few finishing 
touches upon one of my studies, that I am to send to an 
artist as a sample of my work. It is the first time that I 
have ever taken up my brush to use during business hours, 
sir plead Jasper in self-vindication. 

“ Let it be the last, as well as the first, then. There 
are fools enough already dabbling with such trash. Paint- 
ers and sentimental composers of verse finally die of 
starvation, or live to be supported by their friends, if they 
have any. I wonder what next I shall have to contend 
with in shape of idiotic nonsense ? You will never have 
this whim gratified while you are under age and my 
guardianship, whatever folly of the sort you may be guilty 
of afterward. So you may as well settfe your mind to that 
decision, at once, and now I" and the angry man took his 
document and went out, closing the door with a bang. 

Jasper put away the treasured trial picture, took up his 


78 


THE NEW BANKING-HOUSE. 


pen with a heavy sigh,, and commenced to pore over the 
long column of figures, which stared at him like so many 
black demons from the open page. 

He began to indulge in bitter thoughts and regrets : 

AVhy did my mother choose such a guardian to rule over 
me ? Why did she ever marry him ? If my own dear 
father could have lived, I might have been abroad, now, in 
a studio. Let me see ! it will be two years before I shall 
be my own master. It appears an age, when I think how 
long time seems in this disgusting banking-house. But I 
suppose I may as well make the best of it. And yet, there 
is Helen and mother at home who would be sorry to have 
me away from them. I should feel lonely without them, 
too, away in foreign lands. Well, I must wait till I am my 
own master. It is hard, though ! 

This reverie was abruptly brought to an end by the en- 
trance of a tall, and rather broad-shouldered young man, of 
perhaps twenty-one, who stepped to an opening in the rail- 
ing, hat in hand, and asked if he could see one of the mem- 
bers of the firm. 

What is the nature of your business, sir ?” inquired 
Jasper, who was generally the one to answer inquiries of 
the kind. 

I wish to see about obtaining a situation of some kind 
here. Perhaps, however, this is not the right office to 
apply, but I thought you might be able to direct me to the 
proper person for such inquiries,” modestly answered the 
young man. Jasper wondered that anybody should seek a 
chance in so disagreeable a business. 

“ Mr. Dunn generally engages the clerks himself, but 
perhaps Mr. Fairweather can tell you whether there is a 
vacancy at present. His office is in the next room. Per- 
haps he will see you if you apply at the second window in 
the front office, and perhaps not ; but it will be no harm to 
try,” replied Jasper, politely. 


THE NEW BANKING-HOUSE. 


79 


The young man turned away rather wearily (for this 
was his tenth application for a clerkship in a banking-house 
that day, and ho began to feel somewhat disheartened,) and 
went to the next window, according to directions, and asked 
if he could see Mr. Fairweather. 

Now this member of the firm was as congenial and con- 
siderate toward every one with whom he came in contact, 
as Major Dunn was crusty and arbitrary. All the employees 
respected him, as well as those who had business transactions 
with him. The applicant for a position removed his hat, 
and stepped into Mr. Fairweather’s presence with fear and 
trembling. He felt tliat he could scarcely endure another 
rebuff or refusal and keep his courage to further continue 
searching. 

Mr. Fairweather motioned to the stranger to be seated, 
saying he would be at liberty soon. 

After turning over bills and papers, which were piled 
before him in what seemed hopeless confusion, he opened 
an envelope, and drew forth its contents, which he read, 
and threw in the waste basket. He then turned and asked 
the young man what he could do for him. 

I am searching for a situation, sir, and was directed 
to you by one of the clerks in the other office.” 

Mr. Fairweather seemed studying the applicant’s face 
and weighing his words, of which he seemed sparing. 

If you had applied last week there might have been a 
fair chance among others for a place, young man. I 
regret to say it is now filled,” replied the banker, feeling 
an uncommon interest in the young man before him, who 
looked as if he had some weight of care upon his mind. 

Have you had any experience in this business, or is it 
merely your first trial for a situation ?” 

** It is not my first trial for a situation, sir, but I have 
not been able to obtain one. I have been in a Western 
college for the past two years, or year and a-half, I should 


80 


THE NEW BANKING HOUSE. 


have said. I have not the means to continue my studies 
any longer, and am anxious to do something for self-sup- 
port, and also to assist another whom I am in duty bound 
to repay for past care and kindness. But I will not take 
more of your time, sir, as you must be busy ; and time is 
money,” he added, rising to leave. • 

I think Mr. Dunn must be back by this time, and 
there may be a chance that the young man engaged last 
week does not give satisfaction. If you will wait here 
until my return, I will go and see what the prospects 
are.” 

The young man said he would wait. Truth to tell, the 
junior partner did not like the youth whom the wilful 
Major Dunn had employed as collector of bills, and out- 
side business of that kind generally. He was a good 
reader of faces ; in fact, study of the human face was an 
especial hobby of his ; and he always said he never was 
deceived, and never had occasion to change his opinion 
from first impressions. But let us follow him now to 
Major Dunn’s private ofiice. The major had returned, 
and was sitting at his desk with a ruffled countenance, his 
thoughts still upon Jasper’s unguarded trespass on what he 
considered his time. 

There is a young man in my office, Mr. Dunn, who 
is very anxious for a situation here. He looks to be truth- 
ful and willing to do any honorable work. Is there any 
prospect that he could be engaged ?” 

Prospect of a chance ? No ! I could have my choice 
from one hundred strong and smart young men for one 
vacancy if we had it. You need not have taken the 
trouble to come to me yourself. If you had sent the 
youth here, I could have dismissed him without further 
delay, Mr. Fairweather and Major Dunn moved uneasily 
in his chair. Mr. Fairweather did not say that he would 


THE NEW BANKING HOUSE. 


81 


not send the young man to him to be snubbed and abused, 
but he thought just that. 

I thought. Major, it was barely possible that the 
youth you last employed might not suit or fill the place 
satisfactorily. Thjjt is why I came, thinking if he did not, 
there might be some encouragement for the one in my 
office.^^ 

“ There is no probability or possibility, even, that the 
last young man will not suit or prove satisfactory. I don^t 
like constant changing myself, and this young man is as 
smart as lightning. That goes a good ways with me. 
Then he is honest and straightforward, too. He has to be 
trusted with a great deal of money in his large collections 
sometimes, and many might be tempted to skip with it.^^ 

“ Perhaps he is all you think him, Major, but as I read 
faces, he is altogether different. However, we will not 
argue the point longer, as the young man waits for an 
answer.” And the junior partner left the presence of Mr. 
Dunn, with an unpleasant feeling of having, in a certain 
sense, been snubbed. 

He entered his office, where the waiting applicant sat 
undergoing the tortures of suspense, with a slight frown 
resting upon his usually placid countenance. 

“I regret to say that I can make no arrangements with 
my partner for you at present, but there are often dissatis- 
factions and changes in a house like this. It is possible I 
can do something for you in a few mouths, and if you will 
leave your name and address with me, I will do what I 
can for you, either here or at any other banking-house I 
may chance to hear of needing help.” 

The young man looked as if he thought those few 
months ” mentioned by the banker, a lifetime to wait ; but 
he made no remark, except to thank the gentleman for his 
trouble. Mr. Fairweather passed a pen and piece of paper, 
requesting him to write his name and address upon it, 


82 


THE NEW BANKING-HOUSE. 


which he did in a round, legible hand, and bowing respect- 
fully, left the office with little hope, it must be admitted, 
of ever obtaining a position there. 

Jasper looked after him as he again passed through his 
office, and wondered why he had remained so long with 
Mr. Fairweather. He could but reflect on the strange 
combination of circumstances which had placed him in a 
position he so much despised, while that young man was 
BO anxious to fill one of the same kind and it was denied 
him. He wished that the poor discouraged applicant 
could have taken his place, then and there. 

Strangely enough, Mr. Fairweather was thinking of the 
same thing. He well knew how Jasper loathed his employ- 
ment and that his whole being was wrapped up in art 
studies. He had suflBcient discernment to see how utterly 
impossible it was for Jasper to succeed in mercantile or 
commercial life. And yet such blunders are constantly 
being made. Somehow, the round covers are put upon 
the square boxes, and vice versa, the world over, meta- 
phorically speaking, in business matters, as well as in mar- 
riage relations. 

Mr. Fairweather resolved that he would take it upon 
himself to speak with his partner regarding Jasper’s 
unpleasant and ill-fitting business ; and tell him that his 
experience in such cases had been that they proved igno- 
minious failures. Ho closed his desk, and started again for 
Major Dunn’s private office to broach the delicate subject 
of the guardian’s choice of a business for his step-son. 

Perhaps you may think I have no right to question 
your management of Jasper, in regard to his being in this 
business. Major,” said Mr. Fairweather, as he took the chair 
his partner offered him on entering, ‘‘ and I should not have 
ventured to speak thus plainly, only I am convinced that 
the young man will not succeed in the banking business, 
while his mind is on Italian art galleries.” 


THE NEW BANKING-HOUSE. 


83 


Then he will have to be made to confine his thoughts 
to Dunn & Fairweather’s banking-house, instead of wool 
gathering in foreign countries. I have seen too much of 
artists, so called, in my day ! I donT want to hear anything 
about artists, and I won’t have anybody under my care 
daubing with paints either, and the major grew red in the 
face with excitement and temper. 

“I would tell you a story about a case something like 
this step-son’s of mine, if it didn’t take too long, and I 
believe I will, anyway. It’s about a family I once chanced 
to know. They were as poor as Job’s turkey, just on account 
ofthis infernal craze about art, and such things. They had 
to be buried by the city, and their children were left to 
starve, and were scattered here and there, and no one knows 
where.” 

Was this a family in New York, Mr. Dunn ?” 

Yes, they lived in the poorest part of the city, and I 
happened to know that they filled pauper’s graves. The 
boy very likely is drifting around after work, or maybe he 
has followed in his father’s footsteps and dabbles with 
paint.” 

“Would you mind telling me the name, sir ? or is that 
a secret, Mr. Dunn ?” 

“ Oh, no ! It was Leonard Hurlbert ; but, of course, I 
don’t wish anything said about this affair to anyone !” 

“ Certainly not, Mr. Dunn ! I can keep a secret, you 
will find.” And Mr. Fairweather went back to his office 
with mingled feelings of displeasure and wonder. He took 
out his memorandum book, and again read the name of 
the young man who had left his address for a situation. 
It was the hated name of Hurlbert I 


84 


FASHIONABLE DBESSMAEING. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

FASHIONABLE DRESSMAKING. 

Mrs. Withington has been in New York two years and 
a- half, and has succeeded beyond her most sanguine expec- 
tations. She has not only made a comfortable living, but 
she has compelled Guy to attend a college out West, and 
has paid his board, while he, working on a farm during 
the summer vacation, earned his clothing and tuition 
money. 

He came back to the city after two years, and declared 
he would not stay longer at school on his grand aunPs 
expense. He was again seized with a mania for going into 
business. It was he who had applied at the house of 
Dunn & Fairweather, after having gone to nine other bank- 
ing firms with the same object in view. 

It was getting dark in the littered-up sewing room, and 
there were three costumes to finish before the wearied 
dressmaker could seek the needed rest of her bed. She 
arose, picking the bits of sewing silk from her merino dress, 
and lighted the gas. She had only one assistant with all 
the work she turned off in a season. 

Can you stay and help me finish these promised 
costumes to-night, Charlotte ? I fear it will take until 
morning for me to do them alone. I dislike to ask any 
one to stay over hours, after they have worked so hard all 
day ; but when my customers demand their dresses in an 
unreasonably short time, there seems no other way but for 
my sewing girls to help me out. I shall feel justified in 
engaging another girl to do finishing and machine work. 
Then I need an errand girl, too, for taking home the work, 
and running out for thread and extra trimmings. I 


FARIIIONABLE DRESSMAKING. 


85 


believe I shall put a notice outside that an errand girl is 
wanted. You did not tell me whether you could stay this 
evening, until, say nine, or half after, and the overworked 
and much excited Mrs. Withington hurried back to her 
sewing machine and slipped on the hemming attachment. 
The girl, although so wearied with her day’s toil that she 
could scarcely keep her eyelids from falling together, 
promised to stay and help out all she could till nine 
o’clock. 

“ It is time for Guy to be back, poor boy ! I fear he 
has had bad luck hunting for a situation, or he would have 
been home ere this time. I wish he would have done as I 
wished him and gone back to college instead of traveling 
around the streets of New York begging for employment.” 

This grievance was poured into the sewing girl’s cars 
by Mrs. Withington for want of a more appreciative 
listener ; but she did not comprehend the dressmaker’s per- 
turbed feelings any more than she would have understood 
the Latin or philosophy which Guy had mastered in the 
past two years. 

I must go and see if Margaret has the dinner ready. 
He will be cold and hungry after his weary rounds, poor 
fellow. I’ll have her take your dinner in soon, Charlotte, 
too !” and the dressmaker arose again and proceeded to the 
kitchen to give her orders for dinner. 

Presently Guy came in, wearing a tired and disappointed 
look upon his usually bright and cheerful face. 

Well, my boy, there is no need of asking what success 
you have met with to-day. Your face tells the story.” 

Mrs. Withington always addressed Guy as “ my boy,” 
and doubtless would if he had been forty instead of nearly 
twenty-one. 

am sorry I am such a transparent creature. Auntie. 
In a criminal case, if I were guilty, it would seal my fate 
for the gallows or states prison ; and then it is not always 


86 


FASHIONABLE DRESSMAKING. 


pleasant for one’s friends to see trouble and anxiety written 
on the faces of those they love or have an interest in.” 

Have you been to a great many places to-day, look- 
ing for a position, Guy ?” 

Only ten, Auntie ! After all, that is not so many 
when one takes into consideration the number of banking- 
houses there are in this city. I can start fresh to-morrow, 
and the second day of disappointment is never so hard to 
bear as the first. It is only one of the contingencies of 
poverty and obscurity. If I had influential friends or 
relations to help me, I might have been successful in the 
first place to which I applied. But in time perseverance 
may overcome even these obstacles.” 

‘‘You are a brave boy, Guy ! I ought to be, as I am, 
proud of you. But on the whole I had rather you would 
not succeed in getting what you so much desire, until you 
have been at college two years longer.” 

“ That is cruel, Auntie, not only to me, but to yourself. 
Young men of any spirit do not want a hard-working 
woman to defray their expenses at such a cost. And then, 
just see how such unmitigated toil is wearing your life 
out !” 

“ I should work just as many hours and just as hard, 
if you were in business and did not require any of my 
earnings, Guy. It is my nature to be industrious.” 

•“ I see there is no use in arguing the point with you. 
You are bound to finish yourself as quickly as possible. 
But I hate to have the sin at my door. If I take the 
money, it is only aiding and abetting you in the matter.” 

“ What places have you called at in your wearisome 
rounds, my boy ?” 

“ I cannot think of them all. Auntie. But the last one 
was the banking-house of Dunn & Fairweather, and the 
latter gentleman took my name and address and said if any 
changes were made, or any vacancies occurred, he would 


FASHIONABLE DRESSMAKING. 


87 


let me know immediately. He tried his best to get me in 
there, I am sure of that, for he asked me to wait in his 
oflBce while he went in search of Mr. Dunn, as he wished 
to see if he could not be induced to put me in the place of 
a young man, employed a week before, whom he did not 
think was very desirable in the place he occupied. 

I have heard that Dunn & Fairweather’s banking- 
house was one of the largest and best in the city. If you 
should be fortunate enough to get in there, it would be a 
streak of good luck, I can tell you ! I have always felt as 
if you would give your old grandfather reason to be proud 
of you some day. But the mischief of it is, he will never 
know anything about your life. 

If I could only see Grace and Olivia again I would 
not care about my grandfather. If I could see them, with- 
out even the privilege of speaking to them, or making my- 
self known, it would be a relief to me. What a gulf there 
is between the rich and poor ! If my father had died 
wealthy, grandfather would have forgiven him for taking 
mother away from home without his knowledge. * There 
is nothing so successful as success !’ some one has said. 
Money will cover a multitude of sins and shortcomings in 
most people^s eyes.” 

‘‘ Some day I believe you will have as much money as 
your old grandfather ever had ! Who knows but he has 
lost every penny of his before this time. Stranger things 
than that are happening every day.” 

“ I sincerely hope not. If he has, sister Gracie will fare 
slim, and be even worse off than you and I are, because we 
are accustomed to poverty and hard work, while she would 
be utterly incapable of enduring it.” 

This conversation had been carried on between Guy and 
his aunt at the dinner table, and as the latter had so much 
to do on the customers^ dresses she was obliged to finish that 


88 


FASHIONABLE DEESSMAKING. 


night, it had to be cut short, when they arose from the 
table. 

There, my boy, I am sorry that I must leave you for 
the workroom, but you will have to entertain yourself this 
evening. I have got three costumes to finish, somehow, 
before morning.” 

Oh, it is shameful for you to work so ! Can I not go 
in and keep you company with my book ? Or do you 
think young men with books are poor companions ? 

I don’t think you would be a poor companion, in any 
case, with, or without a book. But I have got Charlotte 
there till nine o’clock to help me, and the room is so small, 
and cluttered up with things, there will not be room for 
more than we two.” 

“ Then I’ll go to my room and study mathematics, and 
try to find out the shortest and safest road to wealth. 
Auntie.” And he took the little student lamp and went to 
his chamber, saying he would see her again before be retired, 
and after Charlotte had gone home. 

Mrs. Withington went cheerfully to her task. It 
seemed very hard that a woman of her years should be 
obliged to drudge and toil half the night. Perhaps she 
could have made a comfortable living with much less work; 
but when customers hurry their dressmakers it has to be 
done, or they will go elsewhere with their patronage. The 
rule is that those who are obliged to support themselves by 
any work, either of the brain or muscle, it has to be done 
in an unreasonably short time, and can never be equalized 
through the year. It is frequently months of idleness, and 
then months of hurry and bustle. 

‘‘Are you going to try to finish Mrs. Forbes’ dress to- 
night, Mrs. Withington?” questioned, Charlotte, as the 
dressmaker entered the littered-up room, and attempted to 
put things to rights a little before sitting down to her 
work. 


FASHIONABLE DRESSMAKING. 


89 


“ No, indeed ! Miss Forbes never hurries me to death, 
like many I work for. She don^t care if she has it any 
time before New Year’s day, and there is over a Aveek to 
that.” 

“ What queer taste she has. It looks so funny for a 
woman as old as she is, and so liomely, too, to be wearing 
red and gold plaid, and trimmed up with so many ribbons 
and furbelows. One would take her for a crazy creature 
when she’s decked out and under full sail in the street.” 

‘‘I wish every lady had as good sense, and as kind 
hearts as she has, though,” said Mrs. Withington by way 
of a partially concealed reproof for her young seamstress. 

Oh, she is good hearted enough, I dare say, and I 
wouldn’t mind it if I had some of her money. But as for 
sense, I don’t believe I’m very far behind her, if one’s to 
judge by the way she talks and dresses.” 

“ Well, that is none of my concern. She has the right 
to dress as she pleases, so long as she pays for it. My life 
is too full of my own care to interfere with other people’s 
tastes and peculiarities. Her poor taste injures no one 
else, and if she is satisfied, others need not trouble them- 
selves. She never tries to oppress those who work for her, 
nor does she demand her garments finished in an unrea- 
sonably short time. That is one thing in her favor that 
cannot be said of many,” and the dressmaker picked up 
her Avork after making this defensive speech for her 
singular customer. And here it may be as Avell to give my 
readers an inkling of her history, since she plays an im- 
portant part in this tale drawn from New York life. 

Miss Sarina Forbes was a spinster of perhaps forty — 
some said fifty — but no one knew precisely, except that 
lady herself, and she would not tell. She was utterly 
alone in the world so far as kindred was concerned. Her 
father had been a tallow-chandler in his day, and at his 
death left his only daughter and heir a snug little fortune. 


90 


FASHIONABLE DRESSMAKING. 


Her mother had died years before, and she had been house- 
keeper, servant, and all in all to her father as long as he 
lived. She was a wiry woman, and hurried about every 
thing she did so fast as to make time itself seem laggard. 
She came upon people like the wind, as if blown through 
a crack of the door. Eibbons fluttered from every avail- 
able place on her bonnets and garments, and she prided 
herself in wearing the brightest colors, and the greatest 
variety of them, of anybody who promenaded Broadway 
or the Avenue. Her switch of back hair never matched 
the front, and she wore a ‘^waterfall” of curls, before 
which Niagara is a failure in its hue. She made no pre- 
tense to high birth or education, as well she need not, since 
it often puzzled her to tell why people smiled (politely) 
when she said — which she always did in freezing weather 
— ‘^my fingers is cold.^’ 

Miss Forbes boarded at a genteel house on one of the 
side streets between Madison and Fifth Avenues, and in the 
summer season perigrinated amid the wild granduer of 
the Rocky Mountains, or along the picturesque coasts of 
Frenchman's Bay in Maine, as the caprice seized her. She 
enjoyed everything from her dinner to magnificent scenery ; 
and exclaimed, Oh I” and “ ah !” and did you ever 
at the most trivial piece of intelligence. 

She had been Mrs. Withington’s customer and friend 
ever since she came to New York, and the thrifty dress- 
maker had her to thank for many of her customers. 

The house in which Miss Forbes boarded was located 
opposite the one occupied by Major Dunn’s family, as he 
had been true to his promise that he should not keep so 
large a share of his wealth in a mansion, and had sold the 
one we first found them occupying and leased a far less 
pretentious one in the street above mentioned. Miss Forbes 
could sit at her window and see every movement of the 
Dunn family— that is, when they came out, or when in,— 


FASHIONABLE DRESSMAKING. 


91 


and so she kept her dressmaker well informed regarding her 
aristocratic neighbors. 

The clock on Mrs. Withington^s mantle-shelf had just 
struck eight, when the door bell rang furiously, causing the 
dressmaker to start to her feet in nervous haste. 

“ There, I^ll warrant some of my customers have sent 
for their dresses, and none of them are finished !” she 
exclaimed, looking anxiously at the door as Margaret 
opened it, after giving a resolute thump. 

** Who is it, Margaret ?” 

‘^Sure, mam, it’s Miss Forbes. She says can she come 
into the workroom a minute ?” 

“I hope she don’t expect her dress is finished, and I 
haven’t done a thing but cut it out, yet.” 

Charlotte giggled to herself, thinking what a mistake 
her employer had made regarding her customer’s not being 
in any haste for the dress. 

^‘Tell her I’ll see her in the parlor, Margaret. She 
cannot get into this littered-up place.” 

She threw down the costume upon which she was sewing 
rows of buttons and appeared before her visitor. 

Sakes alive ! 1 didn’t mean to hinder you by leaving 
your work and cornin’ into the parlor ! I happened to 
think I wanted some old gold ribbon mixed with the 
cardinal for bows on my new dress, and I was afraid you 
would get ’em all made if I didn’t take it right down to you. 
How are you getting on with it, Mrs. Withington ?” 

To tell the truth, I have not touched it since I fitted 
the waist, as you said you were in no hurry if you had it by 
New Year’s day. I worked on dresses for some customers 
who were in a great hurry for them. I shall be sure and 
have it finished by that time.” 

That’s all right, and I won’t stop a minute to hinder 
you, if you’re to work this evening. I think I’ve got 
another new customer for you ; leastwise, I hope I’ll get her. 


92 


A FATAL FALL. 


She’ll be a real good one, too. She’s a friend of one of the 
young ladies that boards at our house ; and her grand- 
father’s very rich. They do say that this grandchild is 
treated better than his own wife. He gives her everything 
she wants in shape of dresses and bunnets, and she wants a 
good many, I can tell you 1 Perhaps, though, you can’l 
take any more customers ; you are so dreadfully drove with 
work at this time of the year. I only thought I’d come and 
tell you about it and bring the ribbon. Now don’t let mt 
hinder you another minute !” 

And yet the spinster did not rise to go. 

‘^Why, yes. Miss Forbes, I would take another customer 
I could hire more help, which I need already. I can super- 
intend a much larger business than I now have, and could 
get along without working so constantly myself. Who it 
the lady you think you can get for me ?” asked the dress- 
maker, as her eccentric visitor arose to go, and had reached 
the door. 

‘‘It is Major Dunn’s granddaughter, the one oppositf 
our house. It’s Dunn, the banker, of the firm of Dunr 
& Fairweather. Good night !” And Miss Forbes blew oul 
of the door much as she had entered it, like a gust of wind, 


CHAPTER XV. 

A FATAL FALL. 

Mrs. Malony’s tenement was a scene of distress an( 
confusion. Every head in the front rooms of the building 
was thrust out of the windows. A city ambulance hai 
stopped before the door, and the men were taking a bod; 
from it upon a stretcher. Pansey’s quick ear heard excite( 
talking below, and she went into the hallway, and peerc( 


A FATAL FALL. 


93 


out the front window. She was followed by Mrs. Malony, 
her hands dripping with soap suds, just taken from the 
wash-tub. 

Phat’s iver’s the matter, child ? Can yez see from 
the windy 

Yes, Auntie ; the city ambulance is at this door, and 
they are bringing in a man on a stretcher. I am afraid he 
is dead, by the way he lies.” 

The men had gotten indoors, out of sight, and they 
heard the clatter of heavy boots on the first fiight of un- 
covered stairs. 

Who can it be, do you suppose. Auntie ? Listen ! 
they are coming up the second fiight.” 

Tramp ! tramp !” sounded the heavy boots upon the 
third flight ; and now Mrs. Malony and Pansey began to 
tremble with sudden forboding. They held their breaths, 
in an agony of suspense, listening to hear if the footsteps 
came toward the fourth flight. They did I 

Oh, perhaps it is our landlady's husband, killed by 
the effects of liquor !” suggested Pansey, seeing Mrs. 
Malony shaking with fright. 

They reached the top stair, and set their burden down. 
The hallway was so dark that neither Pansey nor the woman 
could see who the men were, nor the person who lay so 
helplessly upon the stretcher. 

Is this Mike Malony’s tenement, mam ?” asked one 
of the men. 

God Almighty have mercy on us ! it is, sir ! Is me 
own Moike kilt intirely ?” and the half frantic woman fell 
upon her knees before the man, rocking two and fro in an 
agony of despair. 

Perhaps it is not so bad as you think, mam. The 
doctor said he was alive, when we started from the building 
where he fell. I hope he is alive yet, mam ; but he^s badly 
hurt. Shall we bring him in now, mam V* 


94 


A FATAL FALL. 


Mrs, Malony dragged herself to her feet again, and 
looked around for Pansey. The girl had gone inside to 
make preparations in the best room for them to bring the 
injured man inside. 

She was now the one to comfort and help the kind 
woman who had unselfishly toiled for her, and tenderly 
cared for her when she was helifiess. Pansey^s heart arose 
in her throat, and she felt as if she should suffocate with 
fright and sorrow for her beloved benefactress. 

The woman followed her around, helplessly, moaning 
and wringing her hands. 

“ There, Auntie I go and sit down ! I will see that the 
bed is ready to put him on. He may only be stunned, and 
perhaps the doctor can bring him to life again.” 

‘^Oh, no ! child. It is me bad drarae come to pass that 
oi had the night before we moved from the owld tinni- 
ment !” 

By this time the bed was made ready, and the solemn 
tramp of the mens’ feet again sounded through the hall, 
bearing Mike’s body. Pansey asked one of them to go for 
a doctor, for the frantic wife could do nothing but stand 
over the prostrate form of her husband, and groan out the 
pain that was gnawing her heart. 

The man hastened to do Pansey’s bidding; and now 
the women from the floor below, and the landlady ” came 
in to offer their help and sympathy. 

In a short time the doctor was upon the exciting 
scene. He felt the injured man’s pulse, and shook his 
head. 

It’s awl over wid him, docther, I know it is ! Oh, 
phat shall oi do ? Oh, Moike, Moike, spake to me once 
more, darlint ! Oh ! pace to his soul ! he was the bist hus- 
band iver a woman was blissed wid ! And now he’s dead ! 
dead / dead P* and she fell on her face to the floor, and 
moaned in such a frenzy of grief that every eye which wit- 


A FATAL FALL. 


95 


nessed the sad sight, was moist with tears. Pansey knelt 
beside the poor creature, and putting her arms around her 
neck, showered tears and kisses upon her withered cheeks. 

** I shall die ! I shall die mesilf, and thin yez poor 
child ^11 be lift alone intirely !” she groaned, smiting upon 
her breast, as if bereft of her reason. Pansey and one of 
the women took hold of her arms and coaxed her to come 
away from the dreadful sight of her dead husband into 
the other room. 

She was led away by them without any resistance, and 
the coroner and an undertaker were sent for. After this 
she seemed stupified, and was undressed and assisted to 
bed in one of the other women^s rooms, as the confusion 
was too great for her to remain in the midst of it. 

For nearly an hour she continued in this unconscious 
stupor ; and when at length she came out of it, she seemed 
to have forgotten what had happened. She called Pansey, 
and questioned her. The girl tried to pacify tlie poor 
creature, assuring her that when she was better, she would 
tell her all about what had happened, but that she was too 
ill now to talk. But gradually it dawned upon her 
beclouded brain, and she called piteously to Pansey to come 
to her bedside. She went and laid her soft little hand 
upon her fevered brow. It seemed like touching a fur- 
nace, Pansey thought ; and she was greatly alarmed lest 
the stunning blow had caused brain fever or congestion. 

Pansey, child, sind for the praste to come and pray 
to the howley Virgin for the pace of poor Moike^s shoul ! 
Ah, child, he^ll niver spake to us agin ! Sure, I shall die 
widout him ! And thin the saints protect yez, poor orphan 
gurrul !” 

Now, try and be calm. Auntie, dear. Never fear for 
me. The Lord will take care of me if I do what is right !” 
replied the girl with innocent faith. “ I will go for the 
priest, myself, and then you will be sure that he will come 


96 


A FATAL FALL. 


and do all he can for poor Mike. Do you want Father 
Murphy, Auntie ?” 

But by this time the afflicted woman was again raving 
with delirium, and answered only by groans and fitful, 
incoherent sentences. Pansey dare not leave her to go for 
the priest, and yet she feared that on her recovery from 
this wild and frenzied state, she would again ask if he had 
been sent for. It was difficult for her to decide what to 
do under the circumstances. So she appealed for advice 
to the woman of whom they hired the rooms. 

‘^ril send my boy for Father Murphy, so you can stay 
by Mrs. Malony. I should not know what to do for her as 
well as you would. And if she comes out of this bad spell 
again, she will call for you the first thing,” said the 
woman. 

*‘I want the doctor to come to Auntie, too, mam I I 
am afraid she will die, as she says she shall, unless some- 
thing is done for her more than we know how to do.” 

“ Has the doctor that came to Mike gone away yet, or 
is he in with the coroners ?” asked the woman. 

I don^t know ! Will it be any harm for me to go and 
rap on the door to find out, do you think, mam ?” 

I will go and see myself, Pansey, and if he is there 
still, will call him in to see the poor woman.” 

She soon returned followed by the city doctor, who was 
obliged to remain for a while with the coroners. He 
stepped to the bedside, where the delirious woman was still 
tossing and moaning, and put his fingers on her swiftly 
beating pulse in the most business-like manner. Such 
sights and scenes were nothing new to him. A stranger 
to the sick woman could see nothing in this particular 
case to call for especial attention and sympathy. And yet 
this woman had been of more actual service to her fellow- 
beings than most of the wealthy denizens of the up-town 
mansions ; although too poor and insignificant in the eyes 


A FATAL FALL. 


97 


of tlie world to claim even a passing notice ; while many 
who possess wealth and are naught save festers upon the 
moral atmosphere, would have been carefully nursed and 
tended uuder similar maladies. 

Pansey stood trembling and silent beside the little doc- 
tor. The tears gathered in her eyes as she asked timidly : 

Has she a fever, doctor 

** It will probably terminate in congestion, unless she 
can be kept perfectly quiet, and has careful nursing ; 
neither of which she can have here under present circum- 
stances,^^ replied the doctor. 

“ If you will tell me what to do, I will be very careful 
to obey your orders, and perhaps I can make up a bed in 
the kitchen until Mike is taken out of the best room to be 
buried. I think I could do everything for Auntie that 
needed to be done in the way of nursing,” pleaded Pansey. 

You are a very young person to turn nurse,” replied 
the doctor, somewhat puzzled at the instinct of refinement 
possessed by the young girl, and wondering what she could 
be to this coarse looking Irish woman. But perhaps you 
will do as well as many older people could. How old are 
you, girl ?” 

I am about thirteen, sir.” 

You do not look even that child. But are you Mrs. 
Malony’s niece ? I notice you call her Auntie.” 

Oh, no, sir ! I was stolen by a hand organ-grinder^s 
boy when I was little a over two years old. Auntie says, and 
she saw me in his arms, and knew that the boy must have 
stolen me to beg with, and so she took me away from him 
and carried me to her home, and has taken care of me ever 
since. Oh, she has been so good to me, sir ! I can never 
repay her for all she has done!” 

She certainly did a very good deed when she took care 
of you, my girl,” replied the doctor, as he noted her deli- 
cate features and blush rose complexion, through which 


98 


A FATAL FALL. 


her clear, round, hazel eyes shone like stars. He began to 
take an unusual interest in this one case out of thousands. 
“ A history, beyond a doubt,’’ he thought to himself, still 
gazing at the beautiful face before him, as she watched 
anxiously every move the sick and suffering woman made. 

^‘1 will see what can be done by way of moving the 
dead man from the room he is now in. It will be just as 
well to put him on a table in the kitchen,” and the singu- 
lar little doctor went immediately to attend to those 
matters himself. It is wonderful how a few words of 
explanation will sometimes change the feelings of one 
human being toward another. Mrs. Malony, as the wife 
of Mike, who had fallen from a staging with a hod of 
mortar upon his stout shoulder, was not worth much con- 
sideration, even to a doctor who had a fair allowance of 
the milk of human kindness in him. But the woman who 
had fostered and cared for a beautiful young girl like 
Pansey, and rescued her from an organ-grinder’s den, was 
quite a different being. Now he was anxious that she 
should have the best possible care and nursing, and he did 
not hesitate to go considerably out of his way to attend 
personally to this case. 

Pansey went to the dish closet in the kitchen, and 
brought out a bowl, in which she put cold water, and with 
a spouge bathed the burning head of her unconscious 
protector. Surely it would be a dreadful thing for the 
young girl to be left friendless, and almost penniless in this 
great city. Pansey did not realize how much she had 
depended upon the kind old creature until now. It seemed 
as if some terrible obstacle had been suddenly thrown across 
her pathway, over which it was impossible to climb, and 
v/hich was too heavy for her feeble strength to remove 
She was impressed with the feeling — like many others of 
her intuitive sensitiveness — that her protector would never 
recover from this stupor and delirium. Hot tears fell 


A FATAL FALL. 


99 


from her soft, liquid eyes, and dropped upon the wrinkled 
face of the unconscious woman, while she gently bathed 
her brow, as if her life depended upon the performance of 
this small act of kindness. 

Suddenly her patient caught the sponge from her hand, 
and clenching it in her powerful fingers, wrung it dry, and 
then threw it across the room, muttering, It rains, so 
harnid that the clothes niver^ll dry this day, sure !” 

In a few minutes the doctor returned with the informa- 
tion that Mike had been removed and taken into the 
kitchen, and that Pansey could prepare the room for their 
patient. 

The young girl went immediately and quietly to this 
unpleasant task. She never thought about having fear of 
Mike^s dead body in the next room, nor of his just having 
been taken from the bed over which she was working. 
Her thoughts were all centered upon the sick woman for 
whom she was trying to make the bed as comfortable as 
possible. 

The doctor sat down by the small table in the room 
where his new patient lay tossing and moaning, and wrote 
out a prescription. Then he arose, buttoned up his thick 
overcoat, ready for a long, cold, car ride, and went into the 
room where Pansey was trying to put things to rights. 

Here, my girl, take this prescription and go to the 
dispensary and have it filled. There will not be any charges 
there, I suppose you know.” 

But Pansey did not know this fact, although she did 
not say so. 

“ Will you come again to-night, or early in the morning, 
doctor ?” questioned the son-owful girl, trying to choke 
back the rising lumps which came into her throat. 

Oh, yes ! my little nurse. I will come early in the 
morning. But the sooner you can get the medicine, the 
better. If you are able to sit up part of the night, see that 


100 


A FATAL FALL. 


she has the doses according to directions on the bottle. It 
would be very much better if you could find some trusty 
woman in the house to take your place the last half of the 
night. I fear you cannot endure the fatigue of watching 
until morning ; and you might fall asleep !” 

Oh, no, sir ! I could not sleep if I went to bed. I can 
keep awake all night. I would not dare trust Auntie with 
anyone else. She is too dangerous for that.^’ 

The doctor looked at her in astonishment, wondering 
how it was that such a stripling should understand things 
that many older heads could not comprehend. He bade 
the little self-appointed nurse good-night, and went down 
over the long flights of dark stairs, and out into the cold 
and fresh atmosphere with a sense of relief to his lungs. 

Pansey asked the “landlady if she would remain with 
her sick charge until she went out to the dispensary, named 
by the doctor, and procured the medicine. She promised to 
do so, and they sent for some of the other tenants to assist 
in getting the unconscious woman into the room which had 
been prepared for her by the little nurse, and then the 
brave young girl put on her hat and coat, and went fear- 
lessly out into the darkness to the city dispensary for the 
medicine. 

In a few minutes she returned again, to find her 
“Auntie” in a frightful state of excitement, which amounted 
almost to frenzy. Pansey’s voice seemed, however, to calm 
her ravings, and she was coaxed to lie down and keep 
quiet. The young girl prepared the medicine, and after 
considerable coaxing and pleading and perseverance on 
Pansey’s part, she at length succeeded in making the 
distressed creature swallow it. 

The night wore on slowly after the other helpers had 
left her, and retired. She counted the hours, which seemed 
days in length to her. The doses had to be administered 
every twenty minutes, until the patient slept and grew 


A FATAL FALL. 


101 


calmer. She scarcely sat down at all, lest she might fall 
asleep. The stillness (except the heavy breathing of the 
sick woman, and an occasional groan from her) was oppres- 
sive, and she began to count the clock tick until her tired 
and worried brain reeled with the monotonous sound. 
She had never noticed how solemn and lonesome the con- 
tinual tick ! tick ! tick ! was before. How circumstances 
will change the aspect and sound of everything to us 
poor, helpless mortals. 

She did not know how it would turn with her kind 
benefactress. What if she should die before morning and 
she there alone with her, and powerless to help her ? She 
had never seen any one die since her remembrance. She 
heard a rattling sound in the sufferer^s throat, and she 
almost feared to look at her, feeling that this might be the 
last hour. But it was only the effects of the opiate in the 
medicine, which had thrown her into a troubled sleep. She 
was not accustomed to the different effects of medicines 
upon human ailments, and therefore her fright was terrible 
to endure when she heard this new, strange sound. She 
fell upon her knees before the restless sleeper, clasped her 
hands over her breast, and tried to pray. Her sobs and 
sighs were obstacles which choked her utterance. It seemed 
to her as if they were something tangible, filling her throat 
with heavy lumips, like lead. She could articulate only the 
one sentence : “ Oh, Lord ! look down in pity from Heaven, 
and save us, for Christ’s sake !” 

If her patient slept, she was not to awaken her to ad- 
minister the medicine. Thirty minutes had passed since 
the last dose was given. It seemed hours and almost days 
to the frightened watcher. But this simple petition for 
help from Heaven, seemed, in a degree, to relieve her dis- 
tress, and make the long hours more endurable. There 
come moments in everyone’s life when the pressing need of 
calling on stronger support than anything earthly can give. 


102 


A FATAL FALL. 


drives the tempest-tossed soul to prayer. Heaven pity 
those who have no belief in the succor of the Almighty, and. 
II is protection when the pitiless storm rages ! 

The poor woman over whom Pansey was watching had 
been w'orking unusually hard, and had been exposed to 
cold and stormy weather in her rounds hunting for patrons. 
It was the faithful old creature’s last illness. When morn- 
ing broke upon the awakened and toiling thousands in the 
great city, the night’s suffering and fever hud wrought the 
change in the sick woman’s face which sometimes years do 
not accomplish. Her pulse was weak and low now, and 
her gentle nurse, who had faithfully kept vigil all night, 
watching every wearied breath, looked on in astonishment 
at the havoc that night of torture had wrought. 

She called to her in trembling tones : 

“ Auntie ! Auntie ! do you know me ? Can you not 
speak to your little Pansey ?” 

A partial opening of the heavy lids, and a faint moan, 
which died away on the stillness like a whisper from the 
eternal world, was her only answer. 

The rays of the morning sun came in through the half- 
closed blinds, and slanted across the dying w'oman’s face, 
revealing the dark and swollen rims under the eyes, and 
imparting a livid hue to her sunken cheeks. 

“ Oh ! if the doctor would only come !” sobbed Pansey, 
in a smothered whisper. She listened for every footstep 
on the stairs, but none broke the stillness until the milk- 
man came up who supplied the woman in the other rooms. 
She went to the hall door and looked out as the milkman 
went down again, and her heart sank within her as she 
again turned to the bed, and placed her little, white, 
trembling hand upon her patient’s forehead. It had com- 
menced to feel chilly with a cold moisture. 

Why don’t he come ? Oh ! if he would only come 
before — ” She could not finish the sentence. Sobs 


ANOTHER 6EPAKATION. 


103 


choked her utterance. She fell upon her knees once more, 
and buried her face in her hands. At length she caught 
the sound of steps upon the creaky stairs. They approached 
nearer. A gentle tap came on the door, and then it opened 
and the long hoped for doctor stood bending over the 
kneeling girl. But it was all over. And the sympathetic 
little doctor, looking upon the closed eyelids, murmured 
in low tones : And after lifers fitful fever, she sleeps 

well.” 


CHAPTEll XVI. 

ANOTHER SEPARATION. 

Dear me ! How I miss Guy, now that he has been 
with me for a few weeks. I almost wish he had not come 
home at all. After one has had a taste of happiness, it 
makes ordinary life harder to bear, it seems to me.” 

“Yes, it is hard ! For my part, I wish I could a seen 
him. He must be a right good feller, I’m sure, if you’ve 
had the bringing of him up. I guess widders care more 
for boys and young men than us maiden ladies do. Most 
young fellers I know anything about are proud up-starts, 
and don’t have any more respect for them that’s older than 
they bo than a wild Ingun. But I don’t doubt but this 
nephew of yourn is very different from such trash as I’ve 
met in my day, called ‘young gentlemen !’” 

This speech was delivered by Miss Forbes, in Mrs. 
Withington’s fitting room, where that lady was trying on 
a costume of fearful and wonderful design, and which 
represented about as many different colors as the coat 
belonging 'to Joseph of old. But her dressmaker was not 


104 : 


ANOTHER SEPARATION. 


responsible for this mixture of hues, nor was she yet 
answerable for the bad taste of making the skirt from 
striped material, running perpendicularly down her thin, 
straight figure. 

This was a device of the customer, for Miss Forbes 
exacted the privilege to select the colors to be employed, 
as well as the style of her garments. Sometimes her 
dresses were marvels to behold. The obstinate spinster 
could see no reason why purple, yellow and cardinal could 
not be combined in one article of dress, with just as good 
effect as tints which blend more artistically. But Mrs. 
Withington had learned that it was useless to argue the 
matter with her singular customer, and so humored her 
whims without raising any objections. 

I thought your nephew come from college with the 
intention of staying in New York, and was going into a 
banking-house, or somethin^ of that sort, Mrs. With in g- 
ton ? Wasn’t it a sudden change of his mind that took 
him back to college again ?” 

*‘It was for the lack of obtaining the position he 
sought that he had to go back again. But I almost drove 
him away this time, to finish his four years’ course. I 
I don’t know as he will enter any profession when he gets 
through. He has got his mind set upon mercantile or 
commercial business of some kind. If he cannot get in a 
bank, he may look for something in a wholesale commission- 
house. But a college education I was determined he 
should have ! The boy is a great student. He loves to 
work out difficult problems in algebra and pore over Latin 
and German. If anybody ever deserved success, he does !” 

Why on earth did he choose such a place as Kansas ? 
I should have thought he’d a gone to Boston, or some such 
place to college.” 

“ He thought he should like the climate there ; and then 
he could find a better chance during vacations to work on 


ANOTHER SEPARATION. 


105 


a ranch to help pay his expenses. Poor young men east, 
■who are trying to work their -way to learning, have to go 
into summer hotels as waiters and porters. Guy is too 
proud to do this, and he had rather till the soil, and drive 
horses attached to reaping and inowing machines, he 
sa.ys.” 

“I guess he’s right about that. Young men with 
learning ain’t fit to be waiters and lackeys for rich folks. 
It is better to boss horses than to be bossed by men, I 
should say ! Now don’t cut these ribbons off one inch, 
please ! I want long streamers from the shoulder of this 
frock ; one of purple and the other cardinal.” And Miss 
Forbes dropped into a chair and fanned herself vigorously, 
after having stood first on one foot, and then on the other 
for fifteen minutes, to have her angular and one-sided 
waist fitted by the deft fingers of the much amused but 
aggrieved modiste. 

You spoke about bringing me a new customer. Miss 
Forbes, when you were here last winter ; Major Dunn’s 
granddaughter I think you said. Have you heard any- 
thing more from her in regard to it ?” 

No ; I can’t say as I have. The young lady that 
knows her is engaged to one of the clerks in her grand- 
father’s banking-liouse. I don’t know how they got to 
know one another, but they seem pretty intimate. In fact, 
two much so to last long. The young Miss Dunn seems to 
take possession of her foster brother, a son of the major’s 
present wife. But I have thought she flirted a little with 
the young clerk that this Miss Felix is engaged to. If that 
is really the case, their friendship won’t last long. Dear 
me ! it seems awful hot in here, or else I’m getting excited.” 
And the capricious maiden lady again spread her monstrous 
feather fan, and raised a breeze which sent the dressmaker’s 
trimmings and patterns fluttering about the room. 

“lam sorry you are so uncomfortable. Miss Forbes. I 


106 


ANOTHER SEPARATION. 


would raise the window, if it were prudent for you to sit by 
it. It would be dangerous, I am sure ; the air is so cold 
outside. 

Oh, never mind me ! I shall get cooled off in a few 
minutes. I always feel this way when I stand to have a 
gown fitted. It is harder work than washiii\ Though I 
hain’t done a washin’ in twenty-five years. Not since pa 
died, leastways, and that’s nigh onto twenty-five years. 
How time does fly ! Mercy on me ! it don’t seem no longer 
ago then yesterday sense I used to run down to pa’s tailor 
shop to carry his lunch busy days, when he couldn’t leave 
the shop without losin’ lots of trade. Folks said I wan’t 
bad lookin’ then. There was a young man by the name of 
Hurlburt that said so too. It’s queer aint it, Mrs. Withing- 
ton ?” and the odd and angular maiden gave a nervous little 
laugh, and looked at her reflection in the mirror opposite 
her chair. 

Hurlbert ! did you say, Miss Forbes ?” 

Yes, mam, Hurlbert ! but he’s dead now, and gone, 
poor feller ! He never married ! Neither have I, you see ! 
and some folks call me an old maid, and laugh at their own 
wit as they call it. I wan’t an old maid twenty-five years 
ago, when I knew John Hurlbert, and carried pa’s lunches 
down to the shop. And it’s such a short time ago, too. 
Time must seem awful long to them that call me an old 
maid. I was five-and-twenty then, or thereabouts. Oh, 
I — I mean I have sort of forgotten just how old I was at that 
time putting her hand over her mouth, as if she had 
criminated herself in a court of justice, and was anxious to 
retract her words. 

But apparently her auditor was deaf to this unintended 
confession of her age. She only answered : 

It is singular, but my Guy’s name is Hurlbert, and 
he had an uncle John, who died in a hospital from an 
injury received on a railroad.” 


ANOTHER SEPARATION. 


107 


Miss Forbes sprang to her feet, and stared blankly at 
her dressmaker. You don’t mean to say that you are 
John Hurlbert’s sister, Mrs. Withington !” 

No, mam. But I am John Huiibert’s aunt. Guy is 
my grand-nephew; Leonard Hurlbert’s son, who was a 
younger brother to John. They have noble blood in their 
veins on the mother’s side. She was the daughter of an 
earl, the Earl of Kumford. It was a runaway match from 
England, and, of course, the daughter was disinherited for 
her folly.” 

‘‘I don’t know as it’s folly for a woman to marry the 
man she loves, if she can git him. I know I should’cr 
done the same thing if I’d been in her place. It was 
whiskey that stood in my way to happiness. I suppose I no 
need to tell you that. You must know about your nephew’s 
weakness. I had to give him up, and it wan’t long after- 
wards he was killed on tlie railroad, when he was the worse 
for liquor. I hate whiskey! It stood between me and 
everything that is worth livin’ for and Miss Forbes’ thin 
lips trembled with the agitation this singular revelation 
called forth. 

“It is strange how near you came to being my aunt-in- 
law. I never heard much about the younger Hurlbert, 
and didn’t know whether John’s father was dead or not. 
I suppose he is, ain’t he?” 

“Oh, yes; he died several years before Guy’s father 
was married. Then Leonard went away from New York 
and taught painting and drawing ; and as ill luck would 
have it, he fell in love with the daughter of a rich man, 
to whom he gave lessons. I never knew the particulars, 
but they ran away together from Chicago and came here 
in New York to live. I knew nothing of his marriage or 
trouble, till ojie day, about New Year’s time, I received 
a letter from his wife that Leonard was dying in poverty 
and want in a tenement house in the poorest quarter of the 


108 


ANOTHER SEPARATION. 


city, and begging me to come on here from my home in 
Massachusetts to take the youngest child home with me 
till some provision could be made for her. I went, but 
had lost their address before I started from home. I tried 
various means to find them in vain. Then I took a street 
car on Third Avenue, and found Guy in the car selling 
morning papers. I asked the newsboy’s name after I had 
bought some papers, and he told me his parents were dead. I 
thought he did’nt look like the common herd of New York 
newsboys. His answer settled the question, and I took 
him to the hotel with me. His mother had died from cold 
and starvation a few days after her husband, and the three 
children were left alone in their sorrow and destitution. 
But before I found Guy the old grandfather had come on 
and taken the girl next to Guy, and a missionary had 
adopted the Baby Olivia and taken her out to California to 
live. So there was nothing for me to do but take the re- 
maining orphan away with me.” 

‘‘Dear me! what a sad tale! But what was the grand- 
father’s name?” 

“That is what none of us know. Poor Guy was so 
troubled he did not find out when he carried away Gracie. 
But most likely he would not have let him know. He 
would be afraid that some day the poor boy might hunt 
him up to find his sister. He has forbidden all communi- 
cation between the Hurlberts and his family. He hated 
the boy and youngest girl because they looked like their 
father. Gracie favored the mother’s side of the family, 
and so she was the one to be taken to the rich man’s 
home.” 

“ He didn’t know that noble blood ran through the 
Hurlberts’ veins, I suppose. It’s a great pity that the 
other children are such poor vagrants because they look like 
their father,” said Miss Forbes, sarcastically. “But if 


ANOTHKE SEPARATION. 


109 


Leonard Hiirlbert favored John, the old man had no 
reason to be ashamed of his looks ; that’s certain !” 

John and Leonard did not resemble each other much. 
But Guy’s father was a good looking man ; only always 
pale and sort of spiritual looking. I don’t think his health 
was ever very good, or that his constitution was strong 
enough to endure hardships. But the poor fellow must 
have had a terrible struggle to keep those dear children from 
being beggars. For my part I don’t know why such things 
are permitted. It makes me rebellious, sometimes, when I 
think how unequally things are divided.” 

“ I feel that way too, often ; but that’s all the good 
it does. Some people can marry the very ones they want, 
and others have to put up with jest who they can get, or go 
without ! For my part, I had rather go without, Airs. 
Withington.” 

So it appears ! But perhaps you are just as well off. 
Woman with worthless husbamds are much worse off than 
those who have none. And there are many worthless ones, 
in tliese degenerate days ! For my own part I happened to 
draw a prize. But I did not have him long. Consump- 
tion took him off in less than three years after we were 
married, and before he was able to save up anything. I 
was left with only one hundred and fifty dollars after the 
funeral expenses were paid ; and I have had a pretty hard 
time of it ever since to get, along. My own health was very 
poor for several years after his death, and that increased 
the hardship.” 

It’s a great pity that consumption, or something else, 
didn’t take off the worthless ones instead of the good ones. 
But that would never happen ! That would give deserving 
people more happiness than they could appreciate, perhaps. 
I don’t know !” 

** There was never anything truer than that the good 


110 


ANOTHER SEPARATION. 


die first, and they whose hearts are dry as summer dust 
burn to the socket V* replied the dressmaker. 

^‘Well, I shall have to go ! Tve stayed too long, now ; 
but somehow I got interested to know about the Hurlberts. 

I never expected to see anybody again who knew them ; 
and what is still better, to meet my poor John’s own aunt. 
Oh, I’ll see about that granddaughter of Mrs. Dunn’s the 
first chance 1 get. I suppose they’ll all go away to the sea- 
shore by the middle of June. They always do. But per- 
haps I can get her custom for you for next Fall when they 
get back.” 

Why, it is over four mouths to the middle of June, 
Miss Forbes ! I should think she would want new dresses 
to take away with her. I have made a great many nice 
costumes for Newport and Saratoga ; although the ladies 
tell their friends, when they are at these resorts, that their 
dresses are all made in Paris, and that they cost fabulous 
sums. You know it is the correct thing for society ladies 
to say they have their costumes imported. It sounds better 
they think.” 

Well, for my part, America is good enough for me, and 
so are New York made dresses. But I really must go now, 
and no more fooling, about it ! Oh, by the way, I notice 
you have got a sign out your door for an errand girl. If I 
know of any good, smart child, looking for something to do. 
I’ll send her to you, Mrs. Withington. Good day ! I’ll 
be down again next week !” And the spinster sailed out, 
her ribbons fluttering in the breeze. 


:ALONB. 


Ill 


CHAPTER XVII 

ALONE. 

The snow was sifting down in infinitesimal flakes, 
drifting upon one curbstone and sweeping over the next, 
leaving it bare and icy. Pansey stood alone at the window 
of the desolate tenement, watching the whirling flakes and 
listening to the moaning of the wind around the case- 
ments. It was the day after the funeral, and the house 
seemed more like a dismal tomb to the friendless orphan, 
than a habitation for living beings. Even the driving 
storm outside looked less cheerless, because there was 
action in that, and something which appeared more like 
life. Her sudden bereavement seemed a terrible night- 
mare from which she was struggling to awake, but could 
make no sound. “ What was she to do ? where should she 
go ?” were questions that haunted her braiu continually. 
To-morrow the month would be out, and the rent of the 
two rooms expired. It was paid in advance the first day 
of each month. To-morrow would be the last day that 
Pansey had any right there. Of course, the woman must 
rent it to new parties as soon as she had an opportunity, 
and the slip of paper with the notice, Rooms to let on the 
top floor,” was already up beside the entrance-door below. 

Something must be done !” Pansey thought, that very 
day, even if it did storm and blow a gale. What should it 
be ? The girl had a comfortable, warm wool sack, which 
Mrs. Malony had made over for her out of one of hers, and 
although it was considerably faded and old-fashioned, it 
would keep her from freezing, and protect her from the 
storm. It was impossible for her to stay in that desolate 
room all day alone, and their landlady” could not have 


112 


ALONE. 


her in her room, because her husband, as sne called him, 
was in a drunken stupor, and housed for the day. Pansey 
would rather go out in the fiercest storm, than be near this 
coarse and brutal man. She turned from the window and 
looked around the desolate apartment. The fire had gone 
out, and there was no more coal to build another. She 
went to the dish closet and took down a small tin cup from 
one of the shelves, and looked inside. It was the cup in 
which her benefactor had kept change for bread and milk 
and such small necessities as she got for each meal. She 
turned out the pieces of money on the shelf, and counted 
them over. There were forty-five cents, all told. Then 
there was the furniture, such as it was. There was no one 
to claim it but her ; for neither Mike nor his wife ever con- 
tracted debts. They lived on what they earned, were that 
ever so little. But what was she to do. with these things ? 
It almost broke her heart to think of disposing of them at 
a second-hand furniture store. Every piece that the kind 
creature who had just died ever touched, seemed sacred to 
the grateful girl’s heart. But she had no place to put 
them, and they must be gotten away from there at once. 
She put on her hat and sack, locked the door, and went 
out into the storm. She turned her steps eastward, and 
went into one of those streets where nearly every shop is 
that in which such articles of household use arc bought 
and sold. She entered one of the dark and foul basements 
in quest of a buyer for the furniture to which she had 
fallen heir. A stout, coarse-looking German woman sat 
upon a low stool pulling the hair out of an old cushion, 
and throwing it upon the filthy floor. A half-naked, bow- 
legged boy, his face black with dirt, was creeping around, 
and pulling himself up by the woman’s gown, only to tum- 
ble down again and roll over on the floor. 

Vat you vant, miss ? to puy some vemiture P' 


ALONE. 


113 


No, mam ; I came to see about selling some. Are you 
the owner of the shop T’ 

“ Mine hoosbant is, miss. Vill you sot you down dot 
lounge on ? I vill speak to mine hoosbant.^’ 

The woman went into a dark den at the back of the 
room, which looked like a closet to Pansey, and called to 
Jacob. A small, dried-up looking being emerged from the 
darkness, his clothing covered with small bunches of curled 
hair and excelsior, and pulling a black pipe from his mouth, 
trotted up to Pansey, and asked her errand. 

Do you sometimes buy second-hand furniture, sir ?” 
she ventured, trembling from head to foot, at finding herself 
in this dismal den, and beside such a fiendish looking being 
as this second-hand furniture dealer. 

Veil, yeas, sometime ven I puys dem cheap ! Haf you 
some dings to sell ?” 

“ Yes, sir ; some ‘chairs, two beds and a few articles of 
kitchen furniture, sir !” and Pansey mentioned the house 
where they were. 

“I will valk me ofer mit you, and look at docs dings. 
Maype I puys dem !” and he shambled back to the dark 
den to get his coat and hat. 

Pansey, followed .by her strange escort, hurried up the 
dingy steps, and out again into the driving, sifting snow 
storm. The air was thick and black with the falling 
flakes. They sifted into her eyes, and melted upon her 
pink cheeks. Every now and again a rude blast' of wind 
would almost turn her around in its fierceness, and she had 
all she could do to keep upon her feet. The little black 
skeleton of a man trotted on after her like some evil genius, 
in swift pursuit She turned the corner of Broome Street 
upon an icy curbstone, and fell headlong into the drifting 
snow. There were very few pedestrians out in that part of 
the street, and so she struggled to regain her equilibrium 
without assistance, till the little man had reached her He 


114 


ALONE. 


put out his stained and bony hand toward her, and grasping 
it, she pulled herself upon her feet again. 

Haf ve mooch more valk to dake, miss ? It vasli 
booty pad valking already. Der verniture vill pe booty 
dear cost, if I preaks my neck goiii’ to see it, vonce I” 

The inhuman wretch did not for a moment consider 
the exposure and trouble of the young girl he was follow- 
ing to the desolate tenement ; nor did he care for the heart- 
ache which the sale of these few articles would cause her. 
He tliought only of himself and his personal interests. 

After being whirled around several times and barely 
escaping with unbroken bones, Pansey reached her door, 
and commenced to climb the long flights, nearly out of 
breath, and her clothing and hair as white as Santa Claus* 
with a cold coating of snow. The little black demon 
followed on after her to the top stair of the last flight, and 
paused panting, for her to unlock the door. 

“ Mine gracious ! mine preath is shust oued of mine 
pody. Vere is dot verniture I gomes all der vay dose stairs 
up to see ?” 

Pansey’s heart misgave her, as she thought perhaps the 
man might be angry with her for bringing him up those 
wearysome stairs to And so little. 

“ Here is one of the beds, sir, and there are the chairs. 
Then there is the other bed and kitchen things out in the 
next room. Will you step in here and look at them ? I 
am sorry if you think it is too much trouble to come up 
here for so few things ; but I have to sell them to-day, or 
to-morrow at the longest,*’ said the young innocent, never 
dreaming that the crafty man would take advantage of this 
obligation to sell at once. 

Then dose verniture moost pe sold shoost at once ? 
Veil, I makes you an offer for der whole lot in von lump. 
1 vill pay you tree tollars, mine young freint, and dake it 
avay mit me to-day. Vot you say to dot ?’* 


ALONE. 


115 


She paused a moment to consider the offer ; and then 
remembering how hard, and almost impossible it would be 
for her to go out in the storm to find another customer, 
told him in a fit of desperation, that he could take it, but 
that it seemed dreadful cheap. And yet three dollars was 
more money than Pansey had ever possessed at any one 
time in her life. It was something like Esau’s selling his 
birthright for a mess of pottage, but she knew of no better 
way to do at the time. Twenty dollars would have been a 
very low price for the things. This the man knew very well, 
but her extremity was his golden opportunity, and he was 
not the man to lose the chance. He went down stairs to 
find a drayman to take away the things, and the excited 
and half-dazed girl looked around for the little personal 
articles which belonged to the dead woman and herself. 
She feared if she did not collect them together and secrete 
them, the grasping man might carry them away with the 
other things. The first thing she secured was the little 
paper box containing her trinkets and the half-dollar, 
which Mrs. Malony had made her put back after she 
bought the calico for her new dress. 

Presently the man came back, followed by a truckman. 
They pulled down the beds and rolled up the mattrasses 
and quilts and tied them with stout cords. Pansy followed 
them around, trembling and sorrowful, hugging her treas- 
ured little box tightly in her hands. The man took out a 
greasy pocket-book and unrolled some bills. Then select- 
ing a two and a one dollar bill from the roll, he handed it 
to the excited girl, saying : 

There’s der money, and a pig brice, too ! It vash 
vorth five toller to gome dose stairs up.” 

The truckman, who had known Mrs. Malony and Mike 
from having his express stand just around the corner, 
watched his chance to ask the girl how much she had 
received for the furniture. On being told, he looked con- 


116 


ALONE. 


siderably surprised and drew his face into a scowl, that 
Pansey did not exactly understand. 

“ Do you think that was too much for what he has 
bought ?” she asked innocently. 

“ You should ’er had twenty dollars at the lowest 
figger, girl. But iPs too late now to do anything about it. 
He’s got the goods and you’ve took the money for ’em. 
But it’s too d’rned bad, though. He’ll sell ’em agin fer 
fifty dollars, I’ll be bound.” 

This little confidential chat was broken abruptly off by 
Jacob’s entering the kitchen to ask Pansey if the things 
were all out of the closets. 

‘ ‘ Everything you are to take is, sir. The other things 
are Auntie’s and Mike’s clothes.” 

Der glose pelongs mit the odder things, miss. I told 
you I give so much for dat whole lot.” 

‘‘ Yes, sir ; but only the furniture and kitchen things. 
It did not include the clothing.” 

Dot clodings I will haf, my lettle frient. I don’t 
gomes dose stairs up for noddin’ in dot snow-storm.” 

Pansey looked at the truckman with a perplexed and 
serious face. lie was a good-hearted fellow and had re- 
solved to interfere in the distressed girl’s behalf. 

The clothes don't belong to you, and you can’t take 
’em away from the girl while I’m here !” 

‘‘You vosh a booty druckman to dry and chead the 
man that hired you, and baid a pig brice to take avay 
dose things oud’t.” But the grasping dealer was a coward, 
as are all such creatures, called by the misnomer of men. 

Finding that the truckman was decided in the matter, 
he went down the stairs muttering to himself all the way. 
The truckman followed with the last piece of furniture on 
his shoulder, and Pansey opened and shut the door for 
him, thanking him for his interference to save the clothing 
from the clutches of the crafty Jew dealer. 


ALONE. 


Ill 


Immediate action was her only salvation. She would 
have gone mad, she thought, if it were not for the work of 
picking up the few remaining articles, which were of no 
especial value except to herself, on account of their associa- 
tion with the dim and dreamlike past. She worked as if 
her life depended on speed and forgetfulness of everything 
but the picking up of these coats and pants, dresses and 
old slioes, that had been worn by the dead man and woman, 
whom Pansey reverenced with a kind of hallowed memory. 

At length they were all collected together, and they did 
not make a very formidable parcel, so far as size was con- 
cerned at least. Pansey was astonished to find how few 
things it required to keep Mike and his wife clothed de- 
cently. Then what was she to do with them ? She could 
not start out in the street looking for a place to work with 
a bundle of old clothes under her arm, and she knew of no 
place to leave them, except with the woman of whom they 
had hired the rooms. The girl felt afraid to go to her 
door and ask her to keep them till she knew where she 
should be. She feared the man might come out of his 
drunken stupor, and drive her away from his door, or 
perhaps beat her. She had never seen Mike the worse for 
liquor ; for, as his proud wife had often said, he was a 
sober, dacent man.^’ Pansey had a mortal terror of an 
intoxicated person. While she stood over the troublesome 
parcel, puzzling her brain as to what she should do, there 
came a rap upon the kitchen door. 

Come in V* called Pansey, half afraid to look up as 
the door opened, lest it miglit be the landlady’s ” husband 
coming to drive her out of the rooms. 

It was the little doctor who had attended Mike and his 
wife in their last hours. 

‘^Oh, I am so glad to see you, doctor I I feel so lone- 
some and forsaken to-day !” 

“ I thought you would be, and that is why I came,” 


118 


ALONE. 


and the singular little man took off his hat, as if he were in 
the presence of some society lady, who would expect it of 
him. 

Pansey noticed for the first time that he walked lame, 
as he limped over to the stove — which was cold, as well as 
the only remaining article left in the room — and sat down 
upon it. She had scarcely noticed before what he was like 
in features or form. She perceived now, that he was con- 
siderably gray, and by no means bad looking, although 
below the medium height. 

What has beeome of your furniture, child ? I see it 
has all been removed somewhere.^’ 

have sold it, sir, to a second-hand dealer a few streets 
below this. I have to get out of here to-morrow, not to 
come back again, and I was obliged to sell the things. I 
hated very much to part with them, but it was the only 
thing to do.^’ 

‘‘Did you go out in this storm, child, to find a pur- 
chaser ?” 

“Yes, sir ; and he came and took them away about an 
hour ago. I don’t think he was very honest, for the truck- 
man who moved them told me they were worth twenty 
dollars ; and then, when he went away, he tried to make me 
give him these clothes, and would have taken them, if the 
truckman had not told him he should not rob me of them, 
for he would not let him.” 

“How much did you get for the furniture, child ?” 
questioned the doctor. 

“ Three dollars, sir.” 

He knit his brows sternly at this surprising information, 
and replied : 

“ The robber ! He ought to be arrested for taking such 
cowardly advantage of an unprotected orphan girl.” 

“It is a pity I sold them; but I did not know how 
much they were worth, and I was afraid he would be very 


ALONE. 


119 


angry if I refused to sell them to him after he came up 
here in the storm to see them.” 

“ If I can find him, they will have to be surrendered 
again. He cannot keep them lawfully, under the circum- 
stances.” 

Pansey looked at her defender timidly, saying : “ I am 
afraid such a wicked man as he is might do you some harm 
if you should go to his shop to compel him to pay a fair 
price or give them up. It is down in a basement, dread- 
fully dirty and damp. It is the most dismal and dark place 
I was ever in before, and there are queer looking people 
there.” 

And yet you went in there, my brave girl, and faced 
the dangers.” 

^^Yes; but I did not say anything to irritate him. I 
only asked him to come up and look at the things, and see 
if he wanted to buy them.” 

“ Can you give me the street and number where he 
keeps, child ?” 

‘*No, sir; I do not remember the number. I don’t 
think he would tell you anything about the furniture either. 
Poor Auntie used to say nobody could ever get justice from 
a Jew dealer.” 

You are a singular child, Pansey ! But what are you 
going to do now, my girl ? Have you a place to go when 
you leave here ?” 

am going to try and find work of some kind, sir; 
and if I_do not get a place this afternoon I .can stay at the 
mission-house to-night.” 

“ My poor child, I fear it will be several days before 
you find a situation. It is not such an easy matter as you 
imagine to obtain work in New York, unless you have 
references. If I can do anything for you I shall be glad 
to. But the trouble is I do not go among the class of people 
who hire help. They are all too poor for tliat.” 


120 


ALONE. 


^^Oh, sir, I am sure I shall soon find something to do — 
Just enough to earn my lodging and meals. Auntie has 
taught me to do a good many things, and I could run of 
errands, and take home customer’s washings for some one 
who does laundry work. I am willing to work at anything 
that I can do.” 

‘‘It is such a pity that Mrs. Malony could not have been 
spared until you were older and more experienced in the 
ways of the world, Pansey.” 

“Yes, indeed, sir! It is a dreadful thing that she 
had to die, and poor Mike was killed. There don’t seem 
to be anything for me to live for now,” and the sorrowful 
girl sat down on the box in which she had put their cloth- 
ing and sobbed bitterly. 

The sympathetic little doctor went over to the weeping 
girl, and stroked her soft auburn hair, saying in a choked 
voice: 

“There, there, child! do not cry so! There will be 
some way provided for you without a doubt. Have you 
had any lunch to-day?” 

“Ho, sir; I am not hungry, and I wanted to get all 
these things picked up and put away somewhere. I can- 
not stay here much longer for there is no coal, and the fire 
is out, and even if I could spare the money to get more, it 
would be of no use, because I leave here so soon.” 

“Put on your coat and hat, and come with me. I 
have not been to lunch myself, and I should be glad of 
your company. It isn’t very pleasant to eat alone.” 

“You are very kind, sir, but I ought to be seeing about 
a place to work; and then there are these things; I do not 
know yet what I shall do with them.” 

“ Can you not leave them for a while with the woman 
in the next room, till you find out what you are going 
to do?” 

“I suppose I could if her husband was npt at home in 


BEAECHING AND FINDING WOEK. 


121 


bed, so badly intoxicated that I am afraid to go in there,” 
replied Pansey. 

am not afraid to go in and ask her. I am sure she 
will do so small a thing as that for a friendless orphan. If 
she will not, she doesn^t deserve to live in a Christian land.” 
So saying, the doctor went on his errand of mercy to the 
next room. He met with a cordial reception from the 
woman, and she willingly took the little box of clothing, 
and said she would see that it was taken care of till called 
for by its owner. 

^^Now, Pansey, child, put on your things and come with 
me. You must not stay in this gloomy place any longer. 
If I had a home I would take you to it; but after lunch you 
can go to the mission-house and stay till to-morrow morn- 
ing ; and then we will see what can be done for you.” 

They went out together, and the doctor hailed a car, 
put his young charge in and followed after, where they 
rode to his lunching place. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

SEABCHING AND FINDING WOEK. 

The next morning broke clear and cold after the severe 
snow storm. It had turned to rain during the night, and 
there was a heavy coating of ice upon the pavements and 
fences. 

Pansey had slept at the mission-house the previous 
night, where she went after taking luncheon with the 
doctor. He had promised to call at the mission again the 
next night, and see what she had found for herself, and if 
possible do something for her by way of recommendation. 


122 


SEAECHING AND FINDING WAEK. 


But the brave girl did not think it wise to depend upon 
anybody’s promises. She felt that if a place was to be 
had, she herself must find it. She ate her breakfast in 
the long dining-room with the other poor and destitute 
waifs who had been gathered in there and provided for, 
and after prayers, started on her wearisome search for 
employment. 

She walked cautiously along over the slippery pave- 
ments, and up into the Bowery ; but it seemed as if her 
feet slipped backward two steps where they made one for- 
ward, and several times she fell head foremost on the hard 
stones. 

She picked herself up, nothing daunted, and struggled 
on. Pansey had never in her life been farther up-town 
than Cooper Institute, and she felt very anxious to see 
what was beyond there. She turned into Fourth Avenue, 
and walked on till she found herself in Union Square, 
somewhat frightened and bewildered. The ice glittered 
upon the branches of the trees in the park, and the people 
she met were so finely dressed, that she began to feel 
troubled and mortified at her own faded sack and calico 
dross. She had put on a small gray fur collar that one of 
Mrs. Malony’s customers, for whom she washed, had given 
the prudent wmman for her little charge, and the good 
creature had cut it down in size to fit the girl’s delicate 
neck. But Pansey began to notice the incongruity of 
wearing a fur collar with a faded calico dress, and she 
almost wished she had not come up where the people 
looked, and apparently felt, so grand. Poor girl I she had 
but just commenced to learn her humiliating lessons ; bit- 
ter lessons which the poor and proud have to learn, sooner 
or later. 

The unsophisticated girl had but a vague idea how she 
should set herself about looking for what she wanted. 
Sbe turned her head from side to side, and peered into 


SEARCHING AND FINDING WORK. 


123 


the store windows at the glittering glass and silver wares, 
and the fans, laces and ribbons in the dry and fancy 
goods houses. She had never seen anything half so en- 
chanting in her short life — which had been spent in the 
poorest and most prosy part of the city. There was noth- 
ing to call her above the street in which she had last lived, 
and so this was like a new world to her wondering eyes. 

She stopped before a large jewelry establishment, and 
gazed enraptured upon the glittering gems. A young 
lady and gentleman passed her, and entered the store. 
The young lady turned and looked at the odd little figure, 
standing there with her nose fiattened against the glass, and 
her eyes aglow with the pleasure which the brilliancy of 
the scene afforded her. 

“ What a queer looking girl V* remarked the young 
lady to her companion, and such a guy ! See ! she 
wears an old faded sack, a summer calico dress, and fur 
collar ! Did ever one see such a combination ?” 

Her companion turned again to look at the singularly 
garbed girl, and replied : 

Yes ; but she has a handsome face, and one not easily 
forgotten, either.” 

You are very peculiar in your tastes. For my part I 
donrt see any beauty in a little street urchin like her 
and the proud belle gave her head a haughty toss by way 
of reproof to her gentleman companion, as they entered 
the jewelry store together. 

Pansey's quick ear caught every word the couple had 
said about her. 

I suppose I must look like a fright to those rich peo- 
ple in these old, faded clothes. I wish I had not come so 
far up-town,” soliloquised our little heroine, and the tears 
gathered in her hazel eyes, and fell upon her blushing 
cheeks. She turned from the enticing window, feeling 
like a culprit because she had wasted her precious time. 


124 


SEARCHING AND FINDING WORK. 


which ought to have been devoted to searching for employ, 
ment, and saw a woman dressed about as oddly as herself, 
only representing a great deal more money, looking down 
upon her with a pitying face. 

“ What are you crying about, little girl ? Are you 
cold or hungry ? Or do you wish you could have some of 
these costly jewels ?” 

‘‘ Neither, mam I I felt ashamed of my old faded sack 
and dress I A fine-looking lady just went in the store with 
a smart gentleman, and the lady said I looked like a guy. 
Doesn^t that mean shabby, or something of the sort, 
mam ?” 

Never mind, child, what it means ; she was no lady 
to say such a rude thing as that ; I wouldn’t cry. Where 
do you live ?” 

do not live anywhere, just now, at least. The 
woman who took me when I was a baby has just died, and 
I have come up-town to see if I can find some work to do 
for my lodging and meals. I suppose you do not want a 
girl like me to work for you, do you, mam ?” 

What kind of work could you do, my girl ?” 

Oh, I can run of errands, sweep, and wash dishes, 
build fires, make beds, or do almost anything but cook, 
wash and iron. Oh, I should be so glad if you wanted a 
girl like me. I would try and do everything you required 
of me and Pansey’s eyes sparkled with a newly kindled 
hope, as she looked into the kind but plain face of the sin- 
gular appearing woman. 

** Can you come along with me now, if I should try 
and find a place for you ?” 

‘‘Oh, yes, indeed ! Any time you please.” 

“ Well, then, come and get in the car with me. The 
sidewalks are too slippery to walk. I am not in need of a 
girl myself, but I know of a lady that wants to get a nice 


SEAECHING AND FINDING WOEK. 


125 


girl to run errands. Are these the best clothes you have 
got, child ?” 

Yes, mam. They are all I have got that will fit me. 
Auntie left a dress and cloak when she died, but I cannot 
wear them till I am larger than I am now.” 

The woman questioned her little protege still further, 
and learned the sad. story with which the reader is already 
familiar. When the two arrived at the place where an 
errand girl was wanted, both were wiping the tears from 
their eyes. 

The woman pulled the bell knob, and was soon 
admitted to the reception room. 

“ Oh, is that you. Miss Forbes ? How do you do ? lam 
driven nearly out of my senses with ball dresses. I do want 
more help the worst way, and I have not found an errand 
girl that I could keep, yet, either. I have tried three since 
you were here last, and they were either so lazy or dishonest 
that I was obliged to discharge them !” and the discouraged 
dressmaker glanced at the young girl seated on the sofa 
beside Miss Forbes. 

Well, I donT know^s you^l thank me for bringin* you 
another one to try, Mrs. Withington ; but I found this little 
girl down on Broadway, or on Union Square, and she told 
me she was lookin^ for work. I have questioned her about 
her family, and she tells me the woman that brought her up 
has just died, and she has no home, and she want’s to get 
a place to work for her lodgin’ and meals. I guess she’s a 
pretty good girl, by her talk, though a body can’t always 
tell by that ! Do you want to try her ?” 

Mrs. Withington turned again to look at the now trem- 
bling Pansey ; for she felt that her fortune hung in the 
balance of the dressmaker’s opinion of her. She blushed 
crimson, and stood up to show Mrs. Withington her height 
and proportions . 

‘‘ What is your name and age, my girl 


126 


SEAECHING AND FINDING WOEK. 


am near fourteen mam, but I do not know my own 
real name. The good womj^n who took me away from a 
hand-organ grinder, did not know my parentis names. She 
called me Pansey Bloom, and said I must have been well 
born of Protestant parents. That is all I know about my 
birth, mam. But if you want an errand girl, I think I can 
suit you. I will try very hard to, mam, if you will only 
take me.” 

Mrs. Withington could but wonder at the remarkable 
difference between her handsome, refined face and her 
coarse, shabby clothing ; but she was too sensible a woman 
to refuse the girl a place ou account of not being properly 
clothed. She was perfectly willing to give her a suitable 
outfit to wear about her house and for running on errands. 
She felt certain that the young girl was honest and con- 
scientious by the looks of her beautiful face, and so told her 
she would try her for a week, and if she suited, would give 
her a permanent place. 

Pansey was almost out of her wits for joy. It seemed as 
if Heaven had suddenly opened to her, and given her a 
glimpse of its happiness. 

Oh, you are both so kind that I do not know what to 
say to thank you. When may I commence work, mam ?” 

“ Can you come this afternoon, after you have gotten 
your things from the place you last stayed ?” 

** I was at the mission-house, near the street we lived 
on, last night. I sold Auntie^s furniture, and the time was 
out that she had paid the rent, and I could not stay there 
any longer and she told the sympathetic Mrs. Withington 
her tale of sorrow, caused by the sudden death of Mike and 
his wife; as well as how the Jew furniture dealer had 
cheated her in the sale. 

Well, child, here is some money for your car fare, if 
you wish to go down and tell them that you have found a 
place.” 


6EAKCHING AND FINDING WORK. 


127 


have money for my fare, mam, thank you. I 
promised the doctor who tended Auntie and Mike that I 
would see him at the mission to-night, and tell him what 
success I had ; but he will not be there before five o’clock, 
so I can stay and do whatever you have for me till then, 
mam.” 

** Well, child, you may sweep down the front stairs and 
hall, and then dust them nicely, after you get rested, and 
I will see what I can do about fixing you a warmer dress.” 

“ Oh, I am not tired at all, mam. I can go right to 
work. I know my dress is faded and shabby, but poor 
Auntie did not have money enough to dress me any better. 
It was hard for her to get enough to pay the rent and our 
living after we moved into the new tenement. So she was 
not to blame. Poor Mike worked very hard, too,” 
apologized the brave defender of her dead benefactors. 

Oh, yes ; I dare say your clothes did very well for the 
neighborhood where you lived, but it is different up here, 
my good girl. Now, then, if you are ready, here is the 
brush and dust-pan.” 

The girl took her weapons of warfare against unclean- 
liness, and with a cheerful and smiling face went about 
her new employment. 

That is a remarkable looking girl. Miss Forbes. Her 
complexion and features are as delicate and refined as if 
she belonged to one of the best families of the country. 
But the poor thing has evidently had a hard life by the 
looks of her clothes, and the thankful way in which she 
accepted the menial situation of sweeping and scrubbing 
floors and running errands. I wish there was some way ol 
finding out her real name, and where her parents lived. I 
am going to do the best I can for her if I find that she 
is honest and faithful. Sucli poor waifs always remind me 
of Leonard Hurlbert’s children, and what misery they would 
have been subjected to, were it not that I providentially 


128 


BBAECHINQ AND FINDING WOEK. 


found Guy, and the missionary took the Baby Olivia to a 
good home in the West. And as for Gracie, I hope she is 
happy with her strange old grandfather. At all events, 
she has what money she needs, I suppose.” 

“ 1 only hope that the two girls have fallen into as good 
hands as this poor thing has, Mrs. Withington. I took 
a great interest in the girl when I first seen her looking in 
the windows at the pretty things in the Union Square 
jewelry store, with the tears glittering in her handsome 
round eyes. She’s what I call a perfect beauty ; but that’s 
nothing in her favor. Sometimes it’s a curse to be a beauty ! 
It often turns out that way ; but she looks good as well as 
handsome. Just dress her up once in some bright colored 
gown and ribbons, and see what a picture she’d make. I’m 
goin’ to try it some of these days, if she turns out to bo a 
good girl. She’d look like a wax doll if she was dressed 
like some of the rich folkses children, and everybody’d turn 
in the street to look at her.” ^ 

Mrs. Withington thought to herself, that she hoped 
Miss Forbes would not insist upon rigging up Pansey 
according to her own taste in colors and furbelows ; but she 
only answered that she was glad to have her take an inter- 
est in the friendless orphan. 

As for Pansey, she somehow or other, by intuition, per- 
haps, felt that she had fallen into good hands, and was 
accordingly thankful. She did her work thoroughly, 
passing her brush many times over the same spot in the 
carpet, lest a particle of dust should escape her vigilance, 
and when it was finished, went to her employer in quest of 
more. 

** You can set the lunch table for Margaret, to-day. 
She has a large ironing to do, and it will be a great help to 
her,” and the good woman led the way to the kitchen to 
show her ‘‘ hired girl” the new acquisition. 

Margaret was a singular being, but she happened to 


SEARCHING AND FINDING WORK. 


120 


take kindl}’ to the young assistant in domestic duties, and 
it was quite a relief to bo rid of laying the lunch table, as 
Miss Forbes was invited and expected to stay on this 
occasion. Our young heroine showed herself equally as 
proficient in setting the table, as she had been sweeping 
stairs and carpets ; although the poor thing had raised a 
blister in the palm of her delicate hand with the broom. 

As soon as lunch was over, the two kind women put 
their heads together, to see about fixing up a dress for 
their young charge, while she was queening it over the 
dish-pan out in the kitchen. Miss Forbes ripped, and 
Mrs. Withington cut and sewed, and soon a dress was 
blocked out ready for her to try on, from one of her 
employer's cast-off suits. Then she was called in from 
scrubbing out the sink to have it fitted upon her round, 
lithe figure. She was taken wholly by surprise, and her 
face beamed with delight as she saw the blue and brown 
checked^cheviot, ready for her to try on. She wondered if 
it could be possible that she was to have it as a gift ! It 
seemed too good to be true. She felt as if she had come 
suddenly into fairyland, and that she was to be transformed 
into a modem Cinderella, with Mrs. Withington and Miss 
Forbes for her fairy godmothers. She surveyed herself 
from side to side in the long mirror, before which so many 
of the dressraaker^s customers had admired themselves in 
her snug fits ; and she was astonished at the change even 
this unfinished frock made in her figure, and even her face. 

I am afraid I shall not be able to work enough to pay 
for this nice dress, beside my lodging and meals, mam. I 
have got the three dollars that the furniture dealer paid 
me, but I am afraid to spend that for clothes until I know 
whether I shall suit you or not !” she said modestly, await- 
ing anxiously for her employer to speak. 

Don^t worry about that, child ! Mrs. Withington 
don^t expect you bo pay for this. She wants you to look 
6 * 


130 


6EABOHING AND FINDING WORK. 


respectably around the house and when you have to go out 
of errands !” spoke Miss Forbes. 

Mrs. Withington was too busy paring and pinning the 
soft fabric upon her little charge, to notice what the girl 
said. Pansey wondered if she had offended her that she 
did not answer ; but she felt in any case, she had a friend 
in the singular woman who had taken her there and recom- 
mended her to the dressmaker. 

At last the tedious process was over, and the young girl 
slipped off the new garment, and donned her faded calico 
again, ready for her next task. But her employer told her 
she had nothing just then for her to do about the house, 
and she could sit by her and thread needles, while she 
basted the seams. 

With this light employment, Pansey was delighted, and 
her little fingers were just adapted to the delicate work. 
She threaded all the needles on the cushion, and then 
looked up for more needles to thread. Mrs. Withington 
began to think she had drawn a prize — an industrious 
errand girl. And yet, she could but look upon her as dif- 
ferent from ordinary girls who filled such positions. Some 
undefinable magnetism seemed to draw her toward this 
friendless young creature. She felt the weight of the 
Master’s injunction to his faithful disciples : “Feed my 
lambs !” In some way or other the Lord will provide ” 
for his helpless children. Sometimes he sends the ravens 
to feed them in desert caves ; and sometimes he puts it in 
the hearts of his people to feed and clothe and cherish 
them. 

When it was time for Pansey to go down to the mission- 
house, the dress was finished and ready to put on. Her 
employer went to a closet, took a soft, warm shawl and 
wrapped it around her shoulders ; then she gave her a 
snug little muff to carry, and started her off in high spirits 
to inform the kind doctor of her good fortune. 


BAD NEWS. 


131 


CHAPTER XIX. 

BAD NEWS. 

A letter for you. Auntie. The posimnan just brought 
it,^^ and Pansey handed the little black and white messen- 
ger of unpleasant news to the expectant Mrs. Withington. 

It is six months since we left these two prominent 
characters of this romance, in the littered-up workroom 
on the day Pansey was engaged as errand girl. The 
storms and winds of winter have given place to the scorch- 
ing rays of an August sun. The doors and windows are 
all open ; and even with the air that can be obtained in 
this way, the heat is oppressive and wearisome. There are 
no unfinished costumes lying around the room to-day, for 
nearly all of Mrs. Withington’s customers are at summer 
resorts. It is a slack time with the dressmaker ; but she 
needs the rest, and is glad of it. Miss Forbes is out among 
the Rocky Mountains, and will not return for several days, 
and so business will remain slack with the dressmaker until 
the first of September. 

Pansey has been as faithful a helper as ever woman 
employed, and has not only secured for herself a permanent 
place, but has so grown into the woman^s heart that she 
scarcely would know how to get along without her young 
proteg4. She had been permitted to call the dressmaker 
** Auntie,” as she had called her other protector and friend, 
and the orphan girl felt not only a sense of care and pro- 
tection, equal to that bestowed by Mrs. Malony ; but there 
was also a something in this woman better suited to her 
sensitive nature and refined tastes. 

Not only had Mrs. Withington fed and clothed Pansey, 
but she had sent her to school until it closed the month 


132 


BAD NEWS. 


previous for the annual vacation. And she felt that in 
this case, as well as with her experience in sending Guy to 
college, that it was like casting her bread upon the waters. 
This young girl, who had not been afraid to work, was also 
ambitious to study and improve her mind, and this repaid 
her for the sacrifice she had made in sending her to school. 
Miss Forbes, too, had done her duty bravely in helping 
clothe Pansey. Nice dresses and hats and shoes cost 
money, and it requires a great many to keep a growing 
school girl in good trim. 

But both the unselfish women felt that it paid to dress 
this young girl. She was careful of her things, and then 
she looked so pretty in stylish and good garments. To 
Pansey it seemed like living in a new world altogether. 
To be looked at with envy, and sought after and praised by 
her school companions, was a pleasure she had never 
dreamed of till now. Still she had not gotten past taking 
home the dresses for Mrs. W.^s customers ; nor did she 
grow vain or conceited over her change in fortune. She 
was now past fourteen, and had commenced to develope 
into young womanhood in form and manners. Six months 
of happy surroundings and faithful tender care, not as a 
servant or menial, but as an own daughter and companion, 
had wrought wonders in the girl, and she had gained confi- 
dence in herself, suflScient to attempt and assume duties 
from which many older people would shrink. But let us 
take a took over Mrs. Withington's shoulder, as she reads 
Guy’s letter, written in a trembling hand, and looking 
very much as if it were done in bed. He says : 

My dear Auntie : 

I am sorry to be obliged to write you about my recent 
illness of malarial fever, but I feared if I postponed reply- 
ing to your last kind letter any longer it would give you 
more uneasiness than to inform you of my illness. I am 


BAD NEWS. 


133 


much better now, and able to sit up a portion of each day. 
I was just beginning my summer’s work on the ranch after 
vacation commenced, and I was taken down with this 
fever. I have had good care, and so you need not be 
alarmed about me. When I am able to ride, I think I 
shall go away with one of the men who works here, as it 
will be less expensive than going home, and many less 
miles of travel. Give my love to the little Pansey Blossom 
you have told me so much about in your letters, and please 
do not be troubled on my account. As I am still a little 
weak and nervous I will not attempt to w’rite more at pre- 
sent ; but will let you know very soon again how I am get- 
ting on. Till then, good-bye, and much love from your 
affectionate nephew, Guy R. Hurlbeet. 

Mrs. Withington finished this epistle and dropped it 
into her lap with a groan, which startled the anxiously 
waiting Pansey to her feet. 

“ Is there bad news in the letter. Auntie ?” 

Yes, my dear ! Poor Guy has got the malarial fever 
and has been sick in bed over three weeks. That is why 
he has delayed writing me. ” 

Oh, I am so sorry for him, out there among stran- 
gers,” answered Pansey, wiping the saline drops from her 
round cheeks. How I wish he were here, so we could 
nurse and care for him. I can do a great many things for 
sick people. The doctor trusted me with Auntie Malony 
the night she died. Can we not get him home and take 
care of him ?” 

I am afraid not, Pansey. It would be a long, hard 
journey all the way from Western Kansas. But perhaps 
we could go out to him — or I could. It costs a great deal 
of money to go such a long distance. But that is not to be 
considered if the boy’s health is at stake. I don’t like to 
go without you, either, for there is no one here for you to 


134 


BAD NEWS. 


stay with, as all my friends and customers are out of the 
city."" 

What a bother I am to you now, Auntie. I am real 
sorry ; but perhaps I can find some place to stay ; although, 
if it didn"t cost so much, I should like to go with you and. 
help take care of Mr. G-uy and Pansey put her arms 
around the troubled woman^s neck, kissing repeatedly her 
pale and moistened cheeks. 

Well, I must see what can be done at once. I fear 
he may die out there alone, without proper care. But I 
shall manage to take you with me when I go ; I should feel 
lost without my little Pansey"s sunny face to cheer me in 
the lonesome days of the journey."" 

This declaration of love met with a hearty response in 
the grateful girPs own heart, and she gave vent to her pent 
up emotions in kisses and sobs and protestations of never 
ceasing gratitude to her benefactress. 

“ Oh, but Auntie, I wish Mr. Guy could have the city 
doctor who was called to Mike and Auntie Malony. He is 
so good and kind. But, of course, he cannot ; unless he 
comes home."" 

Poor boy ! he will have to put up with just what he 
can get in shape of doctors out there. That is the trouble- 
some part of sickness in those far western States and towns. 
If I could get him home I should- be thankful enough; 
but that is impossible in his present state of fever and 
weakness."" 

“ Is he so very badly off, then. Auntie ? Could I hear 
the letter read ?’" 

For answer Mrs. Withiugton handed Pansey the letter, 
saying she might read it for herself, as her own voice was 
too much choked with sobs to attempt reading it aloud. 
The girl read it through, and at the close her dimpled chin 
quivered at thoughts of the suffering writer out there at the 


BAD NEWS. 


135 


mercy of comparative strangers, and helpless. Then she 
read the signature, and with the usual curiosity of her sex, 
asked what the R stood for. 

Rumford, my dear. Guy is a Rumford, always and 
everywhere. A real nobleman by nature as well as birth. 
Oh ! Fate is cruel ! cruel ! cruel 

Pansey looked at her employer in blank astonishment. 
The Rumfords and noble blood, were all Greek to her. 

What is a nobleman. Auntie ?” she ventured, timidly, 
blushing to the roots of her hair at her ignorance of such 
matters. 

There are no titled noblemen in this country, child. 
But Guy is descended from English nobility. When you 
get far enough advanced in your studies to understand his- 
tory, you will learn all about lords and dukes and earls, and 
their standing in the English government.^’ 

‘^And then you are descended from the nobility. 
Auntie ?” questioned Pansey, assuming an awe-struck 
attitude and expression. 

“No ! the nobility is on the other side of the family. 
But I must not talk longer of titles. Something must be 
done at once, about going to that dear, sick boy and the 
distressed woman, sprang to her feet, as if standing would 
help matters along faster than sitting. 

Pansey caught the standing panic, too, and hurried 
around over the little room with the words ringing in her 
ears that “Guy was a Rumford, everywhere, and one of 
nature’s noblemen,” while she moved chairs and brushed 
things that were perfectly free from dust, with a peacock 
feather duster, which she took from its place behind the 
hall door. 

Notwithstanding the oppressiveness of the heat, the 
excited woman and girl went at once to making preparations 
for an early departure. Mrs. Withington overhauled a 


136 


BAD NEWS. 


small leather trunk, in which some of her winter clothing 
was packed, and carefully picking out the monstrous 
chunks of camphor gum at the bottom, laid them aside for 
future use, and commenced putting in the garments and. 
toilet articles she thought they would be likely to need for 
their long and tedious journey. Pansey was delegated to 
hunt the articles up, and pass them to her as she wanted 
them. They both worked with a will, forgetting, for the 
time being, how sticky and uncomfortable they were. A 
mixture of tears and perspiration rolled down the good 
lady’s cheeks, and fell upon the snugly packed garments - 
and Pansey’s face grew as red as a scarlet poppy, while she 
paused every few minutes to apply her pink bordered pocket- 
handkerchief, and take in a few whiffs of air, raised by a 
palm-leaf fan. 

At last their task was completed, and then both sat down 
for a short breathing spell. 

“There’s the letter-carrier again at the door. Auntie !” 
said Pansey, in surprise, and soon his shrill whistle of 
warning sounded in their ears. 

Pansey ran to the door, and took the large yellow 
envelope from the man’s perspiring hand, while he stopped 
for a minute to mop his face with a much soiled hand- 
kerchief. 

“ The pavements are hissing hot in the sun to-day !” he 
remarked ; “but us poor fellows have to travel over them 
all day, jest the same.” And he turned to the next block 
and again sounded his shrill whistle. 

Pansey stopped to look after him for a moment, with 
pity welling up in her great, liquid, pathetic eyes ; and 
then went in with the letter to the anxiously awaiting 
woman. 

“ More bad news, I fear I” she said, her hands trembling 
so she could scarcely break the seal. 


BAD NEWS. 


137 


Pansey waited breathlessly, dreading to know what was 
inside that ponderous envelope. 

Mrs. Withington unfolded the half sheet of foolscap 
paper, and — contrary to the habit of most women who are 
very anxious to know who the writer is — read the signature 
at the end. A smile broke over her face, and then the 
watchful trembling Pansey knew there could be no bad 
news contained in the second letter. It read as follows: 

Dear Misses Withington 

i take my pen to tel you that i am ought amongst the 
wilds of Colorado and i am Havin a verry Good time who 
do you think i met well I met mager Dunn and his Grand- 
auter i seen somebody walkin pro and con on the piazzer 
of the Windsor hotel last Night and think^s i who can that 
be he looks sort of natral i got up and went Out and shure 
enuff it was the mager as large as Life a walkin and prom- 
nadin with his Hands behind him. and the young Lady 
was settin in a big chair readin a paper covered novel i 
took it to bee leastwise, i dont now jest how Long I shall 
stay here im in denver but I forgot to put that at the be- 
ginnin of this letter its putty hot Here and i gess i shant 
stop mor^n a cupple of Weeks Longer I send my love to 
Pansey and hope you are Havin comfortble wether in 
New york from your obedent Servent Sarina Forbes p s 
i forgot to menshion That I see the young lady to Speak to 
her about your dress makin and she Said They was goin to 
the See shore after they went Back to New York to git the 
^oung man and His Mother they are goin to mount dessert 
down in maine thaPs all the nuse i can Think of jest now 
S. P. 

This amusing missive, which was so characteristic of 
the singular writer, afforded considerable relief to Mrs. 


138 


BAD XEW6. 


Withington’s over-strained nerves ; for she had made up 
her mind before opening it that some one had written to 
tell her of Guy’s death, or dangerous condition, out there 
among strangers; anl finding in the place of that this 
originally spelled epistle of friendship, she was both com- 
forted and amused. But it was now near three o’clock in 
the afternoon, and they were to start from Jersey City 
ferry at six on their westward journey. 

Portentious black clouds began to roll up in the west, 
and the rumble of distant thunder was occasionally heard 
above the din of the street noises. A slight breeze had 
started up, which soon turned into a strong gale. The 
windows banged and blinds flew back and forth, opening 
and shutting as if they were something alive. Pansey flew 
to the windows and closed them hurriedly, flashes of 
lightning blinded her eyes as she fastened the springs. 

^‘This will cool the air, and make it much more pleas- 
ant for starting on our journey,” spoke Mrs. Withington, 
sitting as calmly and composedly, looking out upon the 
blustering elements, as if the sky were clear and the wind 
nothing but a gentle zephyr fanning her brow. Pansey 
felt a little timid, it must be confessed, and she drew her 
chair close to her ‘^Auntie,” and kept rather quiet. The 
rain had now commenced to fall in large drops, pattering upon 
the parched pavements, which dried them up in a few seconds, 
so thoroughly had they been heated that day in the blazing 
sun. Some one appeared at the door and rang the bell, as 
if in great haste to get in. Pansey hurried to open it, and 
returning ushered in the little city doctor, who remained 
till they started, and then accompanied them to the ferry. 


A RAJLKOAD DISASTER. 


139 


CHAPTER XX. 

A RAILROAD DISASTER. 

** Give me one lower berth to the right over the Kansas 
& Chicago if you have it V’ spoke the fatigued and per- 
plexed Mrs. Withington to the clerk at the sleeping car 
office window in Kansas City. 

No berths left, madam 

“ What ! not even one left, sir ?” 

Not one, madam.” 

“ What shall we do now, Pansey questioned the 
woman, turning to the young girl, whose eyes were nearly 
stuck together with dust and cinders, and looking so sleepy 
and worn-out that her protector and friend wished she had 
found some place for her to stay in New York, and left 
her behind, while she made this fruitless and tedious jour- 
ney to her nephew. What shall we do ?” she repeated. 

“ I don^t know. Auntie, unless we make the best of it 
and sit up all night in one of the other cars.” 

‘^1 suppose we may as well make up our minds not to 
expect any rest or sleep till we get back home again !” 

Stand aside, madam, please ! Y^'ou are blocking the 
way to the ticket office !” puffed a belated, fat old gentle- 
man, hurrying in the direction of the window from which 
our friend had just turned, to make the same useless 
request. 

The way may as well be blocked, for all the good it 
will do to go there, if you are looking for sleeping berths !” 


140 


A EAILEOAD DISA8TEE. 


retorted the woman, vexedly; mentally pronouncing her 
fellow traveler rude in speech and manner. 

No berths left !” repeated the clerk, as each new vic- 
tim passed in review before the open window to hear the 
same unpleasant answer. 

“ Then why donT you shut the window instead of fool- 
ing people by keeping them waiting around here to take 
their turn at hearing you say : ‘No more sleeping berths V” 
shouted the irritated gentleman before named, drawing his 
face into a knot of scowls. “This sleeping car arrange- 
ment is a delusion and a snare, he went on, pushing right 
and left with his pulpy arms, without being able to force 
an opening anywhere in the excited mass of humanity who 
would not accept the unwelcome intelligence from other 
than the lips of the clerk himself. 

“ The whole thing is a fraud, I say 1” still protested the 
corpulent gentleman, unable to smother his disappoint- 
ment at the prospect of sitting bolt upright with another 
passenger sharing the same seat from Kansas City to Chi- 
cago, or remain over night in the stifled city. “ What^s 
the use of standing around here,” he continued, as if he 
had taken it upon himself to address the waiting crowd. 
“The Palace Car Co. are short flve hundred berths — I 
might say flve hundred berths worse than nothing, just at 
the time they are needed. To-morrow night Pll be bound 
they will run half-a-dozen empty cars !” 

But all these complaints from the old gentleman, com- 
bined with the unspoken wrath of the much-fatigued 
travelers, did not mend matters one whit. Either they 
must remain in Kansas City on a stifling August night, 
where the air was thick with the smoke from raging fires 
all over the western prairies, or be crowded like cattle in the 
close cars at a time when cheap fares were packing every 


A RAILROAD DISASTER. 


141 


train over the Kansas and Chicago railroad from Kansas 
City eastward. 

The western train from Denver had just come in — being 
three hours behind time — and the uncomfortable and weary 
passengers poured out upon the platform, hurrying and 
tumbling over each other, laden with bags and valises, each 
struggling to be first at the sleeping car window, as well as 
in the front ranks to claim their baggage and have it re- 
checked for the train soon to start out for Chicago. 

The next proceeding is to see about our trunk, I sup- 
pose ; but it doesn^t look now as if we could get to the bag- 
gage check window in a week. There seem to be about 
five thousand people ahead of us. I cannot imagine how 
they got here so quickly after the train came in from the 
West.^^ 

The poor lady seemed to be too late for every comfort 
necessary for traveling on this particular day. 

Where is the check, Pansey ? I must make an effort 
at least to get the trunk rechecked in season to go on the 
next train.” 

The girl produced the check from her little hand satchel 
and her chaperone ranged herself in line to await her turn 
to get a chance at the baggage-window. 

Everything was pandemonium around the station. The 
baggage truckmen were shrieking at the top of their lungs 
for the fatigued and worried passengers to clear the 
track !” Groups of women were shaking hands and ex- 
changing kisses ; mothers were parting with sons and 
daughters, choking back the tears, and pleading that they 
would write just the first chance they had to send a let- 
ter back ; ” others were hurrying to the restaurant to snatch 
a bite of food and swallow a cup of coffee ; some struggling 
with a doubtful mixture, by courtesy called lemonade, and 
which has a piece of the peel and a fiy upon the top swim- 


142 


A EAILKOAD DISASTER. 


ing around in a circle after each other ; plump matrons 
were chasing after truant poodles that had slipped through 
the leading strings and were sniffing at every lady^s dress 
to find their mistress ; women were pushing their way 
through the crowd, carrying babies in their arms, looking 
for friends they didn’t seem to find. 

Whore’s the baggage-master ?” shouts one. A 
ticket for Chicago,” demands another. We can’t get 
any sleeping berths !” echoes a third. ^^Dear me,” groans 
a fourth. I wish we were safe at home,” pipes Pansey ; 
“I am so tired and sleepy and we have got to ride all 
through another night without getting any rest, and you 
are so worn out. Auntie, dear.” 

Never mind me, child ; if we can get the trunk in 
time to go on this train I shall be thankful. I can stand 
one night more of being kept awake. But I am sorry for 
you, poor little chick.” 

** Why, Mrs. Withington, where did you come from, 
and how do yon happen to be so far away from home ? 
And if here ain’t Pansey, looking as though she wished 
herself anywhere but here !” 

“ Why ! is that you. Miss Forbes ? I am sure it is 
providential that we have met you on this tedious and 
fruitless journey. We have been on to Western Kansas to 
find Guy, poor boy ! He is sick with malarial fever, and I 
could not rest until we went out to him. But he did not 
think of our coming, and so had been taken home with one 
of the other workmen on the ranch. I am so disappointed 
and troubled about him ! I suppose you are in the same 
boat with the rest of us — no sleeping berths ?” 

Well, now, I can’t say as Pjn in a boat, but I must 
confess I hain’t got no sleeping car accommodations. But 
if there’s any truth in the saying that misery likes company, 
we might be in a cheerful state of mind. There is about a 


A EAILEOAD DISASTEE. 


143 


thousand more in the same plight. For my part, I^m afraid 
we shan’t even get seats, or a place to put our hand-bags.” 

Hand-bags are my least concern. I have got to get to 
that baggage window, somehow, and have my trunk 
rechecked,” replied the dressmaker. 

“ Give me your check. I’m thin, and I can squeeze my 
way through the crowd better than you can. What’s the 
use of waitin’ your turn ? Nobody else does !” and the 
angular spinster took the check from her friend’s hand, 
and worked her way to the baggage window, going sideways 
and backward by turns, or whichever way she saw a loop- 
hole into which she could step to bring her nearer the 
desired object. Meanwhile Mrs. Withington and Punsey 
went into the ladies’ waiting room to get some drinking 
water, from which the ice had long before disappeared.^ 

Just then the stout old gentleman before alluded to, 
bustled into the waiting room, and went over to where a 
young lady was partaking of some half-melted ice cream. 

Come, come, girl !” he exclaimed, hastily, ‘Mon’t wait 
to finish that stuff. If we’re not on hand in season, we 
shall be cheated out of seats in the car, as well as sleeping 
berths.” 

The young lady handed her empty ice cream glass to 
the ebony waiter standing by, and hurriedly drawing on 
her traveling gloves, followed the lead of her protector 
toward the long train of cars, headed by two hissing 
locomotives, the noise of which started the passengers into 
a brisk trot to get on board as soon as possible. 

Close behind the old gentleman and his young charge 
were Miss Forbes, Mrs. Withington and Pansey, who 
quickened their speed in common with the other belated 
ones, at sound of the furious hissing and puffing of the 
iron monsters. 

Let us try and get as near together as we can,” spoke 


144 


A RAILROAD DISASTER. 


Miss Forbes to Mrs. 'Withington. ‘'We should have a 
gloomy journey of it, if we got scattered in three different 
seats among strangers.” 

“I wish wc could secure reclining chairs,” replied her 
friend, looking wistfully up at the windows of those coveted 
cars, only to find all the seats occupied by more fortunate 
travelers, who seemed to be congratulating themselves on 
their sagacity -md forethought. 

“ Land sake’s alive ! If there ain’t Major Dunn and 
Miss Helen ! I wonder if he’s got sleeping berths ?” 
ejaculated Miss Forbes. 

“Is that fat old man with the young lady. Major 
Dunn ?” asked Mrs. W. in surprise. “ Why that is the 
same rude old fellow who told me to stand aside at the 
sleeping car window, saying I was blocking the way. It 
cannot be that he has got berths, since I was there first, 
and the clerk said there wasn’t one left.” 

“You don’t seem to remember that money and a high 
sounding name can buy most any comfort,” replied Miss 
Forbes, with considerable irony in her tone. “ Them 
palace car clerks can generally find empty berths at sight 
of a ten dollar bill,” she continued, knowingly. 

But greatly to her surprise Major Dunn and the young 
lady entered one of the passenger cars, which looked the 
least crowded, and by considerable changing around, 
obtained seats near together. 

Our three friends followed close behind, and through 
the diplomacy of Miss Forbes — who never stood in the cars 
when there was an opportunity for appealing to the 
gallantry of the sterner sex — seats were obtained for the 
three. The spinster adroitly managed to induce two 
young men who were seated behind a lady alone, to go into 
the smoking car. Then she tucked Pansey beside the 
lady, with a bird cage each side of her and a pile of bags 


A RAILEOAD DISASTER. 


145 


at her feet ; while she and the dressmaker settled them- 
selves in the young men^s places. 

The train was scarcely three miles out of the station, 
and was getting up good speed, wliefti a colored porter 
from one of the rear sleepers entered their car, and pass- 
ing through the aisle, scanned the faces of the passengers 
from side to side. He stopped in front of one of the seats, 
and raising his cap, jerked out : 

** Major Dunn, sah ?” 

“ That’s my name. Were you sent from the palace car 
conductor 

Yes, sah. A section for you and the young lady, sah. 
Shall I take your baggage, sah ?” 

Yes. Take this and this and this and that,” pass- 
ing him numerous bags and umbrellas, and a quarter 
besides, with considerable bluster. 

‘^Corne, Helen !” he said, touching the young lady’s 
shoulder in front of him. We’ve got a section, after all ; 
and I think we are pretty lucky, too, when there are about 
five hundred who can’t get one.” 

“ There ! what did I tell you ?” exclaimed Miss Forbes, 
with much irritation, to her traveling companion. ‘‘I 
knew it ! I knew it ! I knew it !” she continued, hotly. 

If there is any comfort to bo had in this world, that self- 
ish old man is bound to have it.” 

Presently a personage, in vulgar parlance termed a 
'^baggage smasher,” whose comj)le:dQn was very much like 
a mixture of milk and molasses, came through the car 
whistling Sweet Violets.” 

Miss Forbes tugged at the skirts of his linen coat to 
attract his attention. She felt in a complaining mood 
just then, and thought perhaps he would be a sympathetic 
listener to her tale of woe. 

What’s the reason they don’t run sleeping car^ 

7 


146 . 


A RAILROAD DISASTER. 


enough to accommodate the passengers?” was her first 
question. 

Don’t know, madam. Hain’t got nuflin’ to do wid 
the sleepin’ cars myself, madam.” 

“ Young man, this car’s dreadful hot and stifled, can’t 
you give us more air ? We shall all die here, before morn- 
ing, at this rate.” 

I think it’s real cool and comfortable here, mam,” 
replied the baggage fiend. 

“ Some folks might think a blazin’ furnace was cool 
and comfortable after they got a little used to it !” retorted 
the irrepressible Miss Forbes. 

The young man so pitifully appealed to passed on, and . 
as he reached the door yelled, in an unintelligible voice : 

‘^Next station’s Gumbletewumblety.” 

What did he say the next station was, Pansey ?” 
asked Miss Forbes, seeing that her other traveling com- 
panion was sleeping, her bonnet crushed against the win- 
dow-sill. 

“ I didn’t understand,” answered the tired girl, half 
asleep. 

“ I wish I knew,” persisted Miss Forbes, rising and 
stretching her neck out the window, as if it were a matter 
of great importance that she should know precisely where 
they were. She seemed to think that any little diversion 
was preferable to pondering over their really uncomfortable 
and unhappy condition. 

The air was very foul and stifled. 

Babies were worrying with faint^ow moans, or wailing 
with lusty cries ; while tired mothers and sleepy nurses 
were inventing every possible method of pacifying them 
without being able to accomplish their purpose. In this 
infected atmosphere, ladies groaned with sick headache at 
every sudden jerk of the train, and there were even fever 


A RAILROAD DISASTER. 


147 


patients propped up by pillows and quilts in these uncom- 
fortable seats, carefully attended by solicitous friends or 
relatives. 

Among the passengers was a western farmer, whose face 
was bronzed and weather-beaten by exposure to the blazing 
sun. He was bathing the feverish brow of a young man 
with water from a tin cup, and wetting his parched lips 
occasionally with a moistened sponge. 

Miss Forbes watched them with much solicitude for the 
poor sufferer, and finally remembering that she had some 
oranges in her satchel, took out two of the best ones, and 
went over to the sick man with them. 

“ Has this poor young man got a fever, sir ?” she asked 
pitifully, addressing the elder man. 

Yes, mam. He’s got the fever and ager. He ketched 
it out in Kansas, where he’s been a workin’ this summer.” 

Is he your son, sir ? I see you take pretty good care 
of him.” 

Oh, no, mam. He’s a college feller as worked on the 
same ranch as I did. He says he’s ter wuk his way fer his 
lamin’ ; he hasn’t no money, nor no friends ter help him.” 

“ Would he like a couple of oranges to moisten his lips 
with ? I don’t think they’ll hurt him, if he only swallows 
the juice.” 

‘^How much do yer tax for ’em, mam ?” 

** Why, my good man, he is more than welcome to them. 
I don’t have fruit to sell. That’s the train boy’s business !” 
curtly replied the amazed Miss Forbes. 

Oh, wal ! then if jou wus goin’ ter give ’em to him, 
I’m sure he’ll be glad on ’em.” 

Here’s some oranges as this good woman sez yer wel- 
come to. ” 

The young man moved his parched lips in thanks for 
such an acceptable luxury ; for oranges at that season of 


148 


A RAILROAD DISASTER. 


the year on a western train were indeed an expensive 
luxury, in which the poor could not indulge, and both these 
passengers gave every evidence of poverty. 

It is very good of you, sir, to nurse tliis young man 
so tenderly, when he’s no relation to you. Do you know 
where his home is ; if he’s got one ?” 

** Wal, mam, his aunt, what brought him up, lives in 
New York ; but she’s poor and hain’t able to take care on 
him. She gits a livin’ by makin’ woman’s clothes and sicli 
things. When we started we thought ’twas too long a way 
for him to go alone ; so I’m takin’ on him to my home in 
Ellenois, couple o’ hundred miles from Skago, mam.” 

Well, if I can do anything more for the poor young 
feller, jest let me know, for it’s bad enough to be in this 
hot and crowded car if a body’s strong and well.” 

Guy, the kind lady says she’ll do any favor she can fer 
ye, and I know yer ’er thankful to her.” 

Guy ! did you call this young man, sir ? What is his 
other name, sir ?” 

** Hurlbert, mam ; that’s his last name.” 

Guy Hurlbert ! It must be that’s him ! I don’t 
believe there’s another by that name ! And then he’s sick 
with malarial fever, too I” soliloquised Miss Forbes, turn- 
ing again to the man, who was carefully feeding his sick 
charge with small pieces of the orange, dripping with juice 
upon Guy’s shirt front. 

If this young man is Guy Hurlbert of New York, and 
has an aunt by the name of Withington, I can tell him 
that she is in this car, on the other side, over yonder, 
asleep.” 

The fever patient started up as if inspired with new 
life, and told his informant that he must be her nephew. 

The spinster returned to her sleeping traveling compan- 
ion and told the news, shaking her vigorously the while to 


A RAILEOAD DISASTER. 


149 


make her understand her meaning. When at length the 
tired woman came to her senses, and learned the truth, 
she started up like a sleep-walker, and went over to her 
surprised nephew. 

She threw her arms around him, showering tears and 
kisses upon his wasted and feverish cheeks. 

The kind and coarsely dressed man who had taken it 
upon himself to conduct Guy to his own home, arose and 
offered Guy’s new found relative his seat, saying he would 
go into the smoking car and *^take a few whiffs at his 
pipe.” 

Mrs. Withington begged the good Samaritan to accept 
her heartfelt thanks, and urged him to take a five-dollar 
bill for his trouble. This he flatly declined, saying he was 
only doing what was his duty by a fellow worker. 

Pansey was now fast asleep, and Miss Forbes carefully 
avoided disturbing her, although it was exceedingly hard 
for the much jaded spinster to sit bolt upright and hold 
her peace in such an unpleasant state of affairs. She 
longed for some sympathetic listener to pour out her com- 
plaints to. She had tried the conductor, the baggage- 
master and the train boy, but they had all aj^peared deaf 
to her pathetic tale of suffocation and weariness. 

Finally she attempted to amuse herself by peering out 
of the car window into the dense darkness of the night. 
She could see nothing save the glittering sparks which 
flew thick and fast from the hissing locomotive, as it 
plunged and clattered and whirled on through the dark- 
ness. 

“ Dear me ! How like lightnin’ we are going ; and it’s 
as dark as a black man’s pocket, too. What if there 
should be a smash up ?” and she shuddered and looked 
toward the sick young man, -who was resting his burning 
head on his aunt’s motherly shoulder. 


150 


A RAILEOAD DISASTER. 


And still the train plunged madly on, panting and 
hissing like a monstrous black demon in mortal agony. 

A happy thought occurred to Miss Forbes’ active brain. 
She would hunt up the parlor car conductor, and see if he 
could be bribed by a ten or twenty dollar bill to give the 
suffering fever patient a sleeping berth. A lower berth, 
too, she had set her mind upon demanding. She laughed 
to herself as she thought of her own sagacity in plotting 
this wily scheme. She arose, and after looking cautiously 
around to see if Mrs. Withington noticed her, she plunged 
her way through the rocking train, catching now and again 
convulsively hold of the seats to balance her tottering foot- 
steps. She opened the door and was greeted by a gust of 
wind and a volley of smoke and dust, filling her nostrils and 
eyes. 

But nothing daunted, she stepped over the coupling 
irons to the next car, while the wheels and springs under 
her feet clattered and smashed together as if the whole 
train was convulsed by some tremendous force from be- 
neath. She pitched and plunged on through the next 
car, and after crossing another shaking platform, found 
herself in the parlor sleeper, where the tired passengers 
were snoring or tossing restlessly, amid the dim light 
behind the curtains. The conductor, seeing a person enter 
from the other car, who did not belong in the sleeper, arose 
from the dark corner in which he was trying to catch a 
nap, and came toward our brave friend. 

“ What do you want in here, madam ? This the parlor 
sleeping car, and no one who don’t hold a ticket for a seat 
or berth has any right in here.” 

I understand that perfectly well, sir ; and so there’s 
no need of you tollin’ me about it !” answered the resolute 
and irrepressible Miss Forbes. You are the person I 
came in to see, though.” 


A RAILROAD DISASTER. 


.151 


Well, what do you want of me, madam ?” 

“ It is possible I may not be quite so poor as I look ! I 
see you think my comfort and convenience ain^t worth 
considerin\ I want to get a sleeping berth for a sick 
young man in one of the other cars. He’s been settin’ up 
all night in one of them hard cramped up seats with another 
passenger beside of him.” 

“ Well, madam, I can’t make sleeping berths to order ! 
There hasn’t been one left in this car or the one back of it, 
since three o’clock this afternoon.” 

I happen to know better than that, sir ! I know that 
Major Dunn, of New York, tried at the ticket office in 
Kansas City for a section in one of these cars, and he was 
told they were all sold, and after he had been in the car 
where I was half an hour, you sent a colored porter in to 
tell him he could have a section, and he followed the porter 
out, with all his traps, into the sleeper.” 

The man winced a little at this straight talk from the 
well posted woman, and he commenced to make a lame 
apology. 

Well, madam ; this was an extra case, and he paid ten 
dollars extra for it, too !” 

That’s just what I’m trying to get at, sir ! But he 
couldn’t have had one, if there wasn’t one, could he ! You 
just said you couldn’t make them to order ; and it’s not 
very likely you could ! Now, I’m willing to pay extra — 
more than that rich and selfish old man paid you — if I can 
get a lower berth for this poor, sick young man.” 

^^How much would you be willing to pay if I could find 
you a berth, such as you want, by changing around one of 
the other passengers into an upper berth.” 

I’ll give you fifteen dollars,” answered the cunning 
woman, thinking she would start at the lowest figure she 


152 


A RAILROAD DISASTER. 


thought he would be likely to accept, and advance it after- 
ward, if necessary. 

He hemmed and hawed awhile, and then, evidently fear- 
ing he might lose the fee altogether if he did not take the 
offered reward, said he would see what he could do for her 
if she would wait there a few minutes till he went in the 
next car. He soon returned with a lower berth ticket, and 
handed it to her, saying Fifteen dollars, please, — and no 
questions asked.” 

She gave him the money cheerfully, and went back to 
tell the good news to her traveling companions. 

“Fve got a nice lower berth in the parlor car for your 
sick young nephew. Can I help you about moving him in 
there?” 

‘‘Why, I did not think it possible to do such a thing, 
Miss Forbes. But I am so thankful to you for your perse- 
verence.” 

“Never mind the thanks; let us get him into it as 
soon as possible;” and the eccentric woman commenced to 
gather up his things to take along herself. But the wcll- 
feed conductor had sent the porter in after the young man 
and his luggage, and the grateful sufferer, followed by Miss 
Forbes and his aunt, went into the parlor car to take pos- 
session of this unexpected luxury. 

Mrs. Withington removed Gu3r^s warm and close-fitting 
coat, and replaced it by a loose dressing gown, which she 
had purchased for him on her way out. Then she placed 
some lemonade and oranges beside his berth, and the two 
women went back to await as best they could for the ap- 
proach of daylight. 

When they returned to their seats, they found Pansey 
wide awake, and anxiously peering into every secluded 
comer of the car searching for them. 

In a short time Mrs. Withington was sound asleep 


A RAILROAD DISASTER. 


153 


again. But neither Mies Forbes or Pansey could close 
their burning eye-lids, and so the spinster related to the 
young girl the singular way in which they had discovered 
Guy in the same car, and afterwai-d secured a nice lower 
berth in the sleeper for him. 

*‘l will go in to him and bathe his head and wet his 
lips with cold water. It must be dreadful torture to have 
a fever in such a hot and uncomfortable place; will you go 
in the parlor car with me, and show me which is Guy? I 
cannot go to sleep again to-night, and I don’t believe you 
have closed your eyes at all. Miss Forbes,” spoke the tender- 
hearted girl, wondering if the fever made Guy’s head as hot 
as Mrs. Malony’s the night she watched over her. 

‘^There’s no place for you to sit, my dear girl. Every 
berth and seat is occupied in that car. Either Mrs. W. 
or I should have staid in with him, if there had been any 
place for us.” 

I can take in the lunch box and sit upon that near 
enough to the berth to bathe his head and give him drink. 
His lips must get parched and dry every few minutes.” 

Well, I’ll go in with you, if you can walk when the 
car is pitching at this rate, and then if he needs some one 
by him all the time you can stay. Where is your lunch 
box? you’d best get it before you start, so you needn’t come 
back after it, if it’s wanted.” 

Pansey overhauled the boxes and bags under their feet, 
belonging to half-a-dozen passengers and thrown down in 
a pile together, and at last produced the requisite lunch 
box, which was composed of tin, and in chest shape. When 
the speed of the train slackened a little, they started 
together for the sleeper and their fever patient. 

Miss Forbes parted the heavy curtain, and looked in 
upon the sufferer. 

7 * 


164 


A RAILROAD DISASTER. 


How do you feel, now, young man ?” she asked, in a 
pitiful voice. 

I am very warm and thirsty, madam ; but it is a great 
relief to lie down ! Were it not for your kindness I should 
have been obliged to sit up all night. And you are deny- 
ing yourself to give this to me. It is so kind of you !” 

Never mind that ! I ain’t very sleepy, and then I’m 
well. That makes a difference ! I have brought little 
Pansey. I suppose you know she lives with your aunt. 
She wanted to come and sit by you, and mebbe bathe your 
head and give you drink if you wanted her to. She’s 
brought their lunch box along to sit on. I guess she can 
tuck herself in behind the curtain, out of the way of pas- 
sengers that pass along the aisle. Pansey, my girl, here’s 
Mr. Guy Hurlbert,” continued the talkative woman, breath- 
lessly, by way of an informal introduction. 

Pansey went up to the bedside, and put her soft little 
hand on his burning forehead. It was like the touch of 
magic, and Guy looked upon her as if an angel had sud- 
denly dropped from the skies, and, as if some hidden string 
vibrated to the touch, his heart went out to her in tender 
affection. 

She is like her name,” he murmured in a half whis- 
per— a genuine Pansey Blossom ! Auntie has done well 
to secure such a prize. Are you not afraid to sit by me, 
lest you might take the fever, Pansey ? I don’t think you 
had better, if Miss Forbes thinks there is danger ?” 

** I am not afraid, Mr. Guy. The Lord has promised 
to take care of those who do what is right,” she replied, 
with a resolute nod of her bright little head, as much as to 
say, “ I shall not be sent away so easily.” 

The new and interesting face of his young nurse afforded 
him an agreeable diversion, and he partially forgot the 
shooting pains in his head and limbs, and the burning heat 


A RAILROAD DISASTER. 


155 


and nausea which accompanies malarial fever. He watched 
the varied expression of her sweet face, and the graceful 
movements of her tapering fingers, every touch of which 
seemed like a caress, only to be convinced that she was not 
the waif that her appearance indicated when his aunt 
took her in for an errand girl, homeless and destitute from 
the streets of the great city. For Mrs. Withington had 
given the girl’s history in her letters to her nephew, so far 
as she herself knew it. 

She seemed to his bewildered and over-wrought brain 
now, as she sat there so calmly beside him, like a white 
plumed dove, with folded wings, glad to do her duty for 
the sick and suffering. His heart went out to her with an 
earnest longing to protect her from the snares and seduc- 
tions to which poor and beautiful young girls are exposed 
in Mew York. 

His brain became confused, now, with the memories 
which crowded upon it, all unbidden. Thoughts of his own 
young life in the old tenement ; and then the darting pains 
came back and pierced his head like arrows. He put his 
hand upon his head with heavy pressure, to still its wild 
throbbings, only to let it fall again, heavily, upon his hot, 
uncomfortable pillow. The soft, small hand of his nurse 
was again placed on his brow, which carried a refreshing 
coolness with its touch, and a sensation like the sipping of 
ambrosia to feverish lips. 

But let us go back into the car where our other friends 
are keeping vigil, and see how they fare. 

Mrs. Withington has fallen into a deep slumber ; for her 
over-taxed strength and nerves have literally given out and 
refused to do duty. Miss Forbes again peers out into the 
night. The air is so filled witJi fog from the Mississippi, and 
smoke from prairie fires, that no trace of the stars is visible. 
The hissing, panting locomotive leaps and plunges on ; its 


156 


A EAILKOAD DISASTER. 


glaring head-light penetrating the darkness, and winding 
the long train in and out over intricate curves, and upon 
frightful trestle works. 

A sharp, quick whistle sounds the key-note of warning ! 
another, and another ! and then the weary sleepers spring 
to their feet, rubbing their eyes, and look around upon each 
other, white and terrified ; but stricken dumb I A work- 
man rushes through the car with a lantern, and pulls the 
bell rope with desperate haste. There is a man just 
around the curve swinging a torch. 

A few rods beyond is a bridge on fire, and the train is 
plunging on to destruction. The speed slackens ! A 
sudden crash, and the two forward cars are flung from the 
track and thrown upon their sides. The passengers are 
pitched into one mass of struggling and groaning human- 
ity. 

The engine had struck the burning timbers with force 
enough to free the bolt which coupled it with the forward 
car, and it had plunged in the depth of the river, taking 
down the fireman and engineer in its fatal leap. The 
parlor cars, being in the rear, the sleeping passengers only 
received a terrible shock, without sustaining any injuries. 
But their fright was such that they were almost powerless 
to move. The smoking car was nearest the engine, and a 
greater portion of the men in that doomed car were either 
killed outright or fatally injured. Next to that were our 
unfortunate friends. Something over half of these victims 
were seriously or dangerously injured. Four only were 
killed, three escaped unharmed, and the remainder were 
slightly injured by bruises and broken bones. Among the 
latter named class were Mrs. Withington and Miss Forbes ; 
the former having her right leg broken just above the ankle, 
and the latter receiving several bruises and a broken wrist. 

' There is no neeil of describing this appalling scene. No 


A RAILROAD DISASTER. 


157 


pen can do it justice ! But in the midst of it all. we find 
Pansey, trying with her small hands, and smaller strength, 
to lift the fallen victims from the places into which they 
were crushed ; some underneath seats, and amid piles of 
heavy valises, that had been flung upon them in the terrible 
shock. The lights had been extinguished, and the lamps 
shivered by the shock, cutting many of the poor creatures 
in the face, as they fell into fragments upon them. 

Pansey could only grope her way amid the mass of 
injured and dying passengers, and try to discover her two 
friends by the sound of their voices ; but meanwhile she did 
what her hands found to do for the other victims. At last 
lights had been procured from outside, among the residents 
of the town, and physicians and sympathetic helpers came 
from far and near. As fast as the injured and dying could 
be taken away and cared for, it was done ; and many were 
the philanthropic passengers in the sleeping cars who gave up 
their berths for the poor, unfortunate sufferers. Guy was 
unable to move even before the accident occurred, and the 
frightful shock had made him still weaker. He knew 
nothing of the fate of his aunt or her freind, and he lay in 
an agony of suspense for Pansey^s return. She had 
promised him she would let him know the moment she 
found tliem, and she was as good as her word. 

They had been carried to the nearest house by a kind 
gentleman, who happened to be near when the persevering 
girl first discovered them. Her pale, anxious face, and 
superhuman efforts to raise them from the corner in which 
they were helplessly pushed, had attracted the gentleman^s 
notioe, and he went at once to their relief, and took them 
home in his carriage, which he had brought to the place of 
the disaster for that purpose. Such a scene of horror and 
distress levels humanity upon one common plane. The 
rich and the poor, the high and the low-born, were cared 


158 


HOME AGAIN. 


for without partiality or distinction by these Samaritan -like 
town people. 

An hour later and the rosy flush of daylight broke over 
the ghastly scene of the wrecked train, revealing hundreds 
of sufferers lying on cots and stretchers ; and still the good 
work of dressing wounds and setting broken bones went 
on. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

HOME AGAIN. 

*‘It is time to take your medicine, now, Mr. Guy,” 
spoke Pansey to her patient, after her own little doctor — 
as she called the city physician — had gone away. 

Guy was fast improving, but still he needed the best of 
care. He seemed perfectly contented when the young girl 
was at his bedside, but still very solicitous for her health 
and comfort. He felt greatly troubled also, that he had 
no means to repay her for all this tender and self-sacrific- 
ing care. And then, too, it distressed him to think how 
much expense and trouble his aunt had been to in going 
to Western Kansas after him. The poor woman was lying 
in the next room, helpless with her broken ankle, and sore 
from bruises, as well as weakened by the dreadful shock. 
Pansey had both to nurse, with the assistance of Margaret, 
occasionally. But the work had to be done, and sickness 
makes a great deal of extra running as well as washing and 
ironing. 

Miss Forbes was less injured, and after a few days^ rest 
she had her arm bandaged and put in a sling, and often 


HOME AGAIN. 


159 


came down to sit beside her dressmaker and friend, whom 
she had learned to respect and love like a near relative. 

She was sitting beside the unfortunate woman on that 
morning, doing what she could for her with one hand, 
which, she had often said, was more than some could 
accomplish with both hands. 

Now, Miss Forbes, I insist that you tell me how much 
you gave for the sleeping berth for poor Guy on that terri- 
ble night V* said Mrs. Withington, with a shudder. 

That is none of your concern ; and you had better be 
thinking about your broken bones and your dressmaking 
business, replied her friend, curtly. 

‘‘ I don’t think broken bones are very pleasant subjects 
for contemplation ; nor is dressmaking either, for that mat- 
ter,” replied the helpless woman. “ But I know you paid 
a very high price for the favor, and I do not think it is 
right for you to assume such expense on my account.” 

didn’t do it for you. It was for Guy Hurlbert. 
But I’m not sayin’ that I wouldn’t do the same thing for 
you, if you was as sick as he was, and crowded into such a 
hot and suffocatin’ car as he was, that terrible night. It’s 
always the way, the folks that are the least able to pay for 
broken bones are the one’s to have ’em broken. That self- 
ish old Major Dunn and his granddaughter escaped with- 
out a hair of their heads being injured. I don’t dare to 
think what the consequence would have been if poor Guy 
had not been safe in the sleepin’ car. I think ’twould 
have killed him outright. And then there’s dear little 
Pansey. If her good heart hadn’t prompted her to go in 
and sit by him to bathe his head, she might have been 
killed or crippled for life. It don’t matter so much for an 
old maid like me, with most of life behind me, as for that 
young and beautiful creature. But it was wonderful 
that we escaped as easy as we did, Mrs. Withington. I 


160 


HOME AGAIN. 


suppose the Lord’s got somethin’ more for us to do, and I 
hope I shall know what it is He wants of me.” 

‘‘ I think it is evident that you are doing something for 
his suffering children every day of your life. Miss Forbes. 
No deserving person calls upon you for help who does not 
get it, I am sure. I only wish my record was as good as 
yours has been in that respect. But there is one thing I 
have had to contend against to prevent my helping others 
more, and that is the lack of money. It is almost a crime 
to be poor in the eyes of the rich, and they blame you if 
you don’t give as much for charitable institutions and 
church festivals as they do.” 

^^Well, for my part, I don’t care what they expect! 
We’ve all got to hand in our own accounts at last, and we 
are not to have but one judge, and no prejudiced jury, 
neither, thank the Lord ! I guess now I’ll go in and see 
how the young folks is gettin’ along,” and Miss Forbes cod- 
dled her splintered wrist, as if it had been a babe or a 
poodle dog, holding it tenderly in her well hand, and 
fluttered out of the room, leaving a lonely vacancy behind 
her, to the restless invalid. 

How are you feeling this afternoon, Mr. Guy ? I hope 
you’re strong enough to go out riding in the Park with 
Panseyand me. Don’t you think you can, if we don’t drive 
very fast ? I’m sure ’twould do you a power of good,” and 
she at length stopped long enough for him to reply. 

^^It would be a very pleasant luxury, and I am sure it 
could do me no harm ; but I do not like to have you go to 
so much expense on my account, Miss Forbes replied the 
convalescing young man. 

I suppose I have the privilege of going to ride myself 
and asking who I please to go with me. You needn’t 
flatter yourself that it’s all on your account. Come, Pansey, 
child ; go and dress yourself in your best frock and I’ll stay 


HOME AGAIN. 


161 


here and help Mr. Guy to get on his things. I shall want 
you to go out in the square and order the carriage after you 
get dressed.” 

Do you think I had better go and leave Auntie alone, 
Miss Forbes ? It is very kind of you to offer to take me 
with you, but I would not like to go under the circum- 
stances.” 

I’ll attend to that ; Margaret ain’t very busy to-day, 
and she can stay with Mrs. W. if it’s necessary for so short 
a time. Now go and do as I bid you.” 

Pansey glided lightly out of the room, and was soon 
back again dressed and ready to take her commission 
regarding what kind of a carriage to engage. 

Get the easiest and best barouche you can find there, 
and come around with it to show the driver the way,” 
ordered the singular woman ; and Pansey obeyed. Mean- 
while Guy was rigged up in the best that could be selected 
out of his dilapidated clothing, and his shiny coat covered 
with a light afghan by the ingenious spinster. 

When the carriage came, she called in the coachman to 
assist Guy into it, and after tucking the afghan snugly 
around him, putting Pansey beside her charge, and giving 
orders to the waiting driver just how fast to drive, and 
impressing it upon his thick head that he must remember 
he had an invalid inside, she motioned for him to drive 
away. Then she turned and entered the house, chuckling 
over her own sagacity in fooling Guy and Pansey as to her 
object in ordering the carriage. 

But let as follow this bewildered pair on their fairy-like 
ride. Although Panseys chariot was not manufactured out 
of a pumpkin, as was the mythical Cindrella’s, it seemed 
almost as marvelous to her to be riding upon those soft 
cushions through the fragrant avenues of the Park, beside a 
yonng man who might have been her princf> were it not for 


162 


AN ENGAGEMENT. 


the fact that his clothes did not have the requisite English 
cut, and were somewhat the worse for wear. She had never 
ridden in Central Park before, and her emotional and 
romantic nature was keenly alive to the novel situation, 
while every minute seemed precious to her. 

As for Guy, it was enough that the sweet, fresh air blew 
upon his pallid cheek, and that he had this gentle being 
beside him, whom he grew to love more and more each day, 
as she watched with patient zeal beside his couch. View- 
ing the situation from present appearances, there is some 
danger that Guy may commit the weakness of which his 
aunt reminded him in the old cottage at Hollywood, that 
of falling in love with some young girl and forgetting his 
grand aunt and two sisters. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

AN ENGAGEMENT. 

Swish ! swish ! swish I dashed the foaming waves 
against a ledge of boulders, and turned again seaward, 
breaking in long, frothy rolls. The wind was blowing 
from the eastward, and the salt air came laden with sweet 
scents from the surrounding islands. Across the bay, Sor- 
rento lay steeped in the glories of a gorgeous sunset, which 
turned the water into ripples of gold. Snowy sails dotted 
the harbor, and tiny row-boats bounced over the waves, 
freighted with youth and beauty in bright flannel yachting 
suits and flattering ribbons. A young couple sat upon a 
huge rock projecting over the water, and, as they supposed, 
secure from the impending assaults of the rising tide. 


AN ENGAGEMENT. 


163 


Were you not dreadfully frightened, Queeny, when 
the crash came that night and you awakened out of a sound 
sleep ?” asked the young man. 

“ Oh, yes ! of course I was frightened ; but none of 
us in the sleeping cars were injured. Just fancy what an 
escape it was, and how near papa and I came to being in 
the very car that was thrown from the track. We did not 
get the compartment until we were several miles out of 
Kansas City.'^ 

What a night I should have spent had I known you 
were so near to danger, dearest Helen.” 

Then, for your sake, I am glad you did not know 
about it, Jasper. But you came out to sketch, and if you 
doii^t go about it, you will lose the magnificence of this 
sunset !” 

I know, Queeny ! but I had rather talk to you, now, 
and let my brush rest awhile.” 

But I wan’t you to paint, and you must do what I 
wish you to, else I shall not come out with you again when 
you invite me.” 

“ You are hard to please, Queeny. If I had commenced 
to paint, you would have insisted that my first duty was to 
entertain you. Is not that the truth, Helen ?” 

Possibly; but that makes no difference. My wishes 
ought to be your law, Jasper.” 

‘'You mean your law ought to be my wishes, Queeny.” 

“As you please. My phraseology never did suit you 
since my remembrance ; but now I expect to be obeyed,” 
she answered with an imperious gesture of her bejewelled 
hand. 

“I did not get very far beyond your title when I chris- 
tened yon Queenie. But Victoria is less arbitrary with her 
subjects, I fancy.” 

“This is all foolish nonsense, Jasper. I car»e out here 


164 


AN ENGAGEMENT. 


with you on purpose to watch you sketch this gorgeous 
sunset scene around the shores of Frenchman’s Bay.” 

that all? I flattered myself that you came to keep 
me company, and allow me to tell you what is in my heart, 
now that I am twenty-one and my own master. There is 
no necessity for me to keep silence longer. I had not the 
right to ask you to be mine forever one month ago, because 
I was under guardianship, and could not ask Mr. Dunn to 
give you to me if you consented. And yet our union has 
seemed a settled fact to me for years. I know no other 
real love, except for my mother. ” 

** Except for your mother! I hope you do not put the 
love you should give to your — your — wife, on a par with 
that you give your mother, Jasper !” 

It is altogether of another nature ; but you must know 
how I have loved you all the years of our childoood, and 
now that I have arrived to manhood, it is only stronger ; 
and you have given mo to understand that this feeling is 
reciprocated.” At this juncture he endeavors to imprison 
her soft white hand, which she coqucttishly evades, saying: 

Yes; but a young lady has the right to change her 
mind, you see.” 

“I see nothing of the sort; but if that is true, has not 
a gentleman the same privilege?” 

suppose so ; that is if he does not mind a breach of 
promise case.” 

‘ ‘ There, Queenie; don’t be sarcastic. I despise a sarcastic 
woman.” 

am not a woman, Jasper,” she answered hotly, and 
with flushed face. 

Pray what may I call you then?” 

A young lady, sir ; if you please!” 

Ah, well ! as you like it!” 


AN ENGAGEMENT. 


165 


''Then commence your sketch of yonder mainland,” 
pointing toward the rosy shores of Sorrento. 

"But Helen, dear, we are no longer boy and girl, play- 
ing with tops and dolls, and why can we not talk of our 
love for each other, and liopes for the future, here, in this 
romantic spot, where even the air is laden with sentiment, 
and the wild birds converse together in their language of 
love?” 

The young lady curled her lip a trifle scornfully, and a 
look of triumph shone in her lustrous eyes. She had been 
expecting this confession from Jasper for months, and had 
divined that it was for this purpose he had invited her to 
go out upon this rock with him alone. He had a little 
glittering bauble in his pocket, hidden away amid the velvet 
cushions of a tiny jewel case, which she had all the while 
intended to let him slip upon her engagement finger. It 
was a costly trifle, for which he had paid a fabulous sum 
at Niferty & Co^s. 

He turned and gazed for a moment into her fresh, 
handsome face, which was half averted, and flushed with 
an emotion he could scarcely understand. 

"Oh, dearest Helen, why will you not listen to my 
pleading, and consent to be mine, now. Life is nothing to 
me without your love to brighten it, Queeny. Oh, if I 
could but make you understand !” 

" I know, Jasper, all this is very romantic, but I may 
see some one later whom I shall love better, and so may 
you ! You are only a boy, yet, you know !” 

This speech raised his ire, and he flushed crimson, and 
replied hotly : 

" If I am a boy at twenty-one, what is that stripling in 
the banking-house, whom you think quite old enough to 
flirt with, although but nineteen ?” 

This was a poser ; but it was not a conundrum hard 


166 


AN ENGAGEMENT. 


enough to disconcert the young lady. Her answer came 
promptly : 

‘ flirtation and an engagement are different, you 

see.” 

Ah, yes ! but how would you relish the return of such 
a compliment, Helen ?” 

I should not relish it at all. It could not be con- 
sidered a parallel case. A jilted young lady stands a poor 
chance of finding another suitor. A young man does not 
have the same difficulty. He can find another whenever 
he sets himself about it in earnest.” 

So, then you think a young man can pick up his 
rejected heart and pass it around among his lady friends 
till he happens to hit upon one who will accept it ? That 
may be logic ; but I prefer not to dispose of mine in that 
way. I would remain a bachelor all my life, sooner than 
marry where I do not love.” 

Now, the impetuous youth believed this boyish fancy, 
or infatuation for the girl with whom he had played in 
childhood, was true love. She had become part of his daily 
life, and it never occurred to him that when he was older, 
or if he had opportunity of making the acquaintance of 
others, a deeper passion might be his. Certain it was that 
the girl by his side had not the nature to inspire his best 
or truest emotions. She could tyrannize and queen it over 
him, it is true, and he had learned to look upon her as a 
person to be obeyed and humored in all her caprices. But 
her shallow and exacting nature could inspire nothing 
broader or deeper, or higher. This he learned later ; and 
then he repented with tears and prayers, and nights of 
agony and almost despair. But he was granted his heart’s 
desire now, or what he mistook for his heart’s desire. 

As for Helen, she was too much like her grandfather to 
be capable of loving unselfishly. She was veiy much like 


AN ENGAGEMENT. 


167 


the dog in the manger. She could not endure to see Jas- 
per pajdng any other young lady attention, and she would 
hare hated any one whom she thought could outrival her 
in his love and devotion. She wanted the privilege of 
playing with him, and then, if it suited her caprice, throw 
him away, crippled and hopelessly crushed at heart. 

But Jasper would have no difficulty in gaining the con- 
sent of Major Dunn for this much coveted prize. The 
match between Helen and Jasper was one of the old gen- 
tleman^s approval. He was aware that the young lady 
might do much worse. Then, Jasper^s habits Avere good, 
and he was financially a prize in the matrimonial market. 
This was of paramount consideration in the mind of his 
step-father. He could even forgive Jasper’s artistic pro- 
clivities, so long as he had fallen heir to half-a-million 
dollars. Money to Major Dunn was a great soothing syrup. 
It overruled all petty prejudices, and, in his estimation, 
elevated its possessors to heroes. 

But let us return to the embryo lovers, sitting upon the 
rock, all heedless of the rising tide. The wind continued 
to increase, and the foaming waves dashed in wild fury 
upon the very rock where Helen and Jasper sat. The 
young man had been compelled to take up his brush and 
sketch sunset at Sorrento to please his tyrannizing queen, 
and await her behest for an answer to his all important 
question. Let us look over his shoulder and see if we can 
determine what are his prospects for future fame as an 
artist. He had forgotten everything but the scene he was 
portraying upon his sketch-book. The young lady, the 
incoming tide, and their perilous position were lost in 
oblivion. True, his tyrant — his queen as he is wont to 
call her, — had driven him to take up the brush ; but yet he 
was deaf to her chatter, and moved his pencil with the 
rapidity of an expert over the blank surface of his sketch- 


168 


AN ENGAGEMENT. 


book. Every line and curve showed rare genius in this 
amateur. 

But alas ! for the inconsistencies of frail humanity. 
Helen got angry and grew envious of the gorgeous scene 
which caused Jasper to be deaf to her prattle, and at length 
she turned to him with an injured air and tremulous voice, 
saying : 

Jasper, why do you sit there as if you were dumb, 
without paying the least heed to me, after you dragged me 
out here to sit upon this hard rock to keep you company ? 
I will not be snubbed in this manner for that old sketch- 
book !” and she snatched it from his hands, and flung it 
down, as she supposed, among the rocks at their feet. 
But, alas ! no ! it went floating out upon the restless tide. 
She clutched her dazed companion’s arm convulsively, 
white with terror, and shrieked : 

Oh, horrors ! Jasper ! The tide is in, and we are sur- 
rounded by water, and helpless ! For heaven’s sake do 
something to save us from those mad, surging waves ! 

By this time the young man came to his senses suf- 
ficiently to realize their dangerous position. He had made 
a mistake as to the time of flood tide, and supposed that it 
was going out instead of coming in, when he took his 
foster-sister out upon that favorite seat. 

Many lovers had plighted their troth upon that very 
rock. It has been often said, that there is something in 
the air at this part of Mt. Desert Island which inspires the 
divine passion. Lovers wandered everywhere around that 
wild and rugged coast, and this was by no means the first 
pair who had been taken from that rock by some friendly 
boatman, because they found themselves surrounded by the 
treacherous tide, and were powerless to save themselves. 

Each minute increased their danger ; for at flood tide 
this ledge was entirely submerged; and when the wind 


AN ENGAGEMENT. 


169 


blew from the east, the waves beat furiously around its 
rugged sides. Their only hope was to signal a boat ; for 
although Jasper was an expert swimmer, it was too far to 
drag a wet burden like Helen with him ; but even without 
such encumbrance, he could not have fought those fierce 
waves such a distance, and come off victor. 

“ Oh, Jasper, dearest, save yourself and me, if you can ! 
Oh, I cannot bear the thought of being plunged into those 
mad waves ! But see, Jasper, they dash higher and 
higher every minute, and the wind is blowing a dreadful 
gale. Oh, what shall we do ? Jasper, I will promise you 
what you asked a little while ago, if you will only save me 
from this terrible danger.” 

He clasped her in his arms, drew the ring from his 
pocket, kissed it, and then slipped it upon her willing fin- 
ger. There, darling ! if we die together, we are 
engaged ; and if we are saved together, it will be the same ; 
will it not, Helen ?” 

“Oh, yes, if you wish it so, Jasper; but we must be 
saved together ! not lost ! oh, not lost !” 

Jasper looked seaward, and could discern nothing but 
the boiling, seething, hissing waves. He turned shore- 
ward. It seemed miles away, and between them and it a 
great gulf was surging. He looked below ; and it not only 
seemed that the water was rising with tremendous force, 
but it appeared as if the ledge itself was sinking to meet it. 
The cold tongues were already lapping their feet, and the 
breaking waves hissed at them, and dashed over them with 
merciless fury. It was growing darker each minute, too ; 
for the sun had wrapped himself in a purple shroud, and gone 
to awaken the song of birds in another part of the world. 

Every wave now broke over them, as they eat powerless 
and helpless, glaring at each other in stony silence ; for 
even speech seemed paralyzed, 

8 


170 


AN ENGAGEMENT. 


Suddenly, a monstrous wave came with tremendous 
force, towering above their heads, and broke over the top- 
most pinnacle of the ledge, with a crash like thunder, and 
rolling seaward, left them drenched to the skin. This 
aroused Jasper from his lethargy of stony muteness, and 
he climbed to the top of the rock and shouted with despe- 
ration in every call for help. 

Helen sat paralyzed, as if turned to stone, straining 
her ears and eyes to catch the first glimpse or sound of a 
response to Jasper’s calls. Another mountain wave broke 
over their heads, and after it had receded, left the water 
nearly up to their heads. As soon as Jasper could recover 
his breath from the dashing wave which had nearly thrown 
them from the rock, he again used all his strength shout- 
ing for help. 

What was that ? I hear a faint sound in the dis- 
tance ! Jasper ! Jasper ! it is help ! life ! Oh, Jasper ! 
do you hear ? It comes nearer and louder each time ; it is 
a woman’s voice, don’t you hear it ? Shout now to the 
top of your voice. There ! it is nearer. Listen ! Shout 
once more ! It is mamma in a boat, rowing alone. She 
is nearing the rock ! another minute and she will be here 
to save us ! Hold on, Jasper ! Take my hand ! don’t let 
me fall into the waves ! Jasper, do you hear ?” 

Another tremenduous breaker came and swept them 
from their strong and convulsive hold upon the sharp 
edges of the pinnacle, and they were borne upon the very 
wave which seemed destined to destroy them, safe within 
the reach of the life-boat, in which Jasper’s mother plied 
the oars skilfully and alone, nerved by the superhuman 
power that comes to mortals when their loved ones hang 
in the balance between life and death, and the former 
depends upon the success of their movements. 

A few minutes later, and the little boat was braced 


A GLAD SURPEIEE. 


171 


against the top of the rock, which was just visible after the 
breaker had rolled back, and the dripping forms of Helen 
and Jasper were drawn into its friendly shelter. Another 
heavy breaker dashed upon the rock, burying it from sight, 
beneath the surging, seething waters. 


CHAPTER XXIII. ‘ 

A GLAD SURPRISE. 

It is cold and cheerless November again. Mrs. With- 
ington has fully recovered from her late injuries, and is 
driven with work until late into the night. Even with the 
assistance of two more seamstresses, she has to be on deck 
constantly herself. Although Pansey is in school during 
the day, she takes home nearly all the garments the dress- 
maker is obliged to deliver, either before or after school 
hours. Beside this service, she makes herself useful in 
many ways about the workroom ; for she is never idle a 
moment, and never seems to expect leisure for the youthful 
pleasures that others of her years so covet. 

Miss Forbes has secured the patronage of Mrs. Dunn 
and Helen, and the latter is making elaborate preparations 
for a season of unusual gayety. It has been rumored that 
the Vanderwaters will give a grand reception and ball later 
on. This announcement is sufiScient to set all upper-tendom 
into a whirl of excitement, from the fact that the affair was 
gotten up in honor of a certain English peer, who was soon 
to arrive in America, and whose visit to New York would 
give fresh impetus to the gay season. 

Guy has so far regained his health as to be uneasy in 


172 


A GLAD 8TTRPRI8E. 


idleness, and he has again determined to try his success in 
searching for a position in a banking-house. His aunt 
declares that she has tried to make a lawyer, author, doctor 
or clergyman of him in vain, and that she shall waste no 
more breath upon that subject. He had been out all day 
going his rounds of inquiry, and had returned just as Mrs. 
Withington was lighting the gas in the hall. 

‘‘ Well, Guy ; what success to-day ? I hope it has not 
been another fruitless search, my boy !” 

** I have almost begun to think that I am one too many 
in the world, dear Auntie. There don't seem to be any 
place provided for me to work in, at all events. Maybe I 
was intended for a gentleman of leisure, or to be an object 
of charity for my poor, over-worked Aunt to support. But 
I shall not stay around here doing nothing very long. If 
I do not find what I am looking for before many days, I 
shall take an engagement to drive a coal cart or truck 
team,” and the young man followed his aunt into the work- 
room, where Pansey was picking the basting threads out 
of a costume which she was to take to Helen Dunn as soon 
as it could be finished. 

“ There, Pansey, see if you can get this discouraged 
young man in a better mood by dinner-time. If there is 
no other way give him a dose of soothing syrup,” and Mrs. 
Withington took the dress from Pansey's hands and asked 
her to go and lay the dinner table, as it was Margaret's 
afternoon out and she would only be home in time to serve 
the dinner. ' ' • • ■ 

Oh, Mr. Guy, have you got the horror's to-night ? 
That is what Miss Forbes calls it when she has the blues. 
But perhaps I can give you something that will make you 
smile. I have been keeping a letter which the postman 
brought an hour ago till you came home. There may be 
good news inside. It is from the banking-house of Dunn 


A GLAD SUEPRISK. 173 

& Fairweather. Now ain’t you glad you have fallen into 
my hands to be treated 

“ Yes, Pansey ; you are a good child, and I am very 
thankful for your interest in my welfare. But, where is 
the letter 

have a good mind now, not to give it to you 
directly. The idea of calling me — a young lady past four- 
teen — a child !” and she puckered her rosebud lips in mock 
resentment, and passed him the letter which he so impa- 
tiently waited to receive. 

I beg your pardon, M’lle Pansey ! I will remember, 
hereafter, that I am not to call you child and he eagerly 
seized the letter, and tore open the large envelope, hurri- 
edly running over its important contents. 

A smile stole over his face, which a few moments before 
seemed so perplexed and serious that his aunt thought he 
looked ten years older than he ought at his age. He 
folded it, replaced it in the envelope and passed it to Mrs. 
W. Pansey was looking on with great, eager eyes, ready 
to congratulate him, if it contained good news. 

“ Read it aloud. Auntie, so Pansey can hear it ; (for 
they had followed the happy girl into the dining-room, 
where she had commenced to set the table for dinner) and 
Mrs. Withington had thrown Helen’s dress upon the sofa 
and opened the letter. 

She read as follows : 

Mr. Guy Hurlbert : 

About a year ago you called at this house and applied 
for a position, leaving your name and address with me. I 
told you then that if anything occurred that there was a 
vacancy in any way desirable, I would let you knoAv. My 
partner. Major Dunn, has gone to Europe on business, and 
the assistant cashier has since died. The vacancy has to 


174 


A GLAD SURPEI8B. 


be filled at once, and I prefer to put you in his place 
instead of advancing the young man to that position who 
is next to him in business rank. Please call at once, and 
inquire for me, unless you already have a position that 
snits you, and oblige, 

Egbert Faieweather. 

“ Well, Guy ! are you still of the opinion that you are 
one too many in the world ? I should think that this was 
proof positive that there is a place left for you a while 
longer. Now cheer up, and make your poor old aunt 
happy by hearing your ringing laugh once more before she 
dies.^' 

Why, my dear, blessed Auntie, I hope you will hear 
me laugh a great many times before that terrible thing 
happens !” and he threw his manly arms around her, and 
hugged her so tightly that she was forced to beg for mercy, 
lest she should not escape without broken bones. 

Pansey looked on, as happy as if she owned her share 
in Guy^s good luck and the bear-like embrace, both of 
which were in store for her a few years later. 

It will not do to be too hopeful about this offered 
position. When Major Dunn returns from abroad he may 
discharge me. It is his province to employ the clerks at 
this house ; Mr. Fairweather is only acting in his place until 
his return. Sometimes one’s hopes are the highest and 
brightest when they are nearest the precipice which dashes 
them to atoms.” 

Well, well, Guy ; don’t let us jump from the precipice 
till we come to it ; and I hope it is so far away that we shall 
not reach it for many years in the future. Here comes Mar- 
garet, and Miss Forbes close behind her, upon my word ! 
Well, she will be delighted to hear of your good fortune 
for one ; of that I am sure, Guy.” 


A GLAD SURPRISE. 


175 


Miss Forbes entered the house with her usual flutter 
and bluster, and rapped upon the workroom door. Pansey 
put down the dessert plates she had just taken from the 
closet shelf, and boujided out to welcome her. 

There is no one in the sewing room, just now. Miss 
Forbes. Mr. Guy and Auntie are in the dining-room. 
Will you come in with us ?” 

She followed Pansey’s lead, and was very quick to 
notice that something unusual had happened, by the 
excited greeting of the dressmaker, and Guy’s pleased 
expression. 

How do you all do ? I come down here a purpose to 
talk with Mr. Guy about a horse I’ve just bought, but I 
guess I’ve come to the wrong place to get a bearin’ just 
now. You’ve had some interestin’ news I take it, Mrs. 
Withington ?” and the spinster glanced toward the open 
letter, which the dressmaker had read for the third time, 
to make sure that its contents had been fully understood. 

Yes, Miss Forbes. I was saying as you came in that 
you would rejoice in my nephew’s good fortune. He has 
just had a position offered him at Dunn & Fairweather’s 
banking-house.” 

The spinster fluttered over to where Guy was sitting, 
giving him both her hands by way of congratulation, 
exclaiming ; 

** Your fortune’s made now, for sure, young man.” 

*'Ah, but I am not so sure of that. Miss Forbes. It 
was Mr. Fairweather who sent for me, and when Major 
Dunn returns from abroad he may have some one else in 
view. It is his province to employ the clerks.” 

^*Mr. Fairweather’s got a handsome daughter, and who 
knows but there’ll be a match between you and she? 
stranger things than that have happened!” said Miss 
Forbes, reflectively, as if addressing herself instead of Guy. 


176 


A GLAD SUKPEI8E. 


That is not very probable, my good friend. Banker’s 
daughters do not fall in love with poor young men, except 
in novels.” 

That is a very safe way to view the subject, my boy ; 
but in my experience real life is far more dramatic and un- 
reasonable than writers of fiction picture it;” put in his 
aunt, noting her nephew’s matter of fact answer to Miss 
Forbes’ wild suggestion. 

What were you saying about buying a horse, when 
you first came in Miss Forbes. You seem to have for- 
gotten what you said you came down for;” and Guy took a 
seat beside his much respected friend. 

Oh, yes; your good news drove horses and everything 
else out of my head. But now you remind me of it, I did 
come down a purpose to tell you that I’d invested in a real 
live horse. He ain’t very handsome ; that is, leavin’ his tail 
out. He has got a lovely tail, and no mistake about it. 
But I didn’t buy him on account of his beauty, that any- 
body could see that looked at him.” 

^‘Pray tell us all about it, Miss Forbes. I am getting 
curious to know why you should make such a singular in- 
vestment,” said Guy, drawing his chair nearer to his friend. 

“Well!” began the spinster, “there was an apple and 
cabbage vender on our street yesterday, and when he got 
opposite our house I noticed his horse was so lame that it 
could hardly walk. He had a stout whip, and he was 
heatin’ that poor beast with the handle. I sot there at my 
winder jest as long as I could, and then I started down 
stairs and went straight out and told him what I thought 
of him. He looked a little shamed it’s true; but he said 
he didn’t consider it none of my business; that that horse 
was his own property, and he had the right to pound it all 
he had a mind to. I see that t’was no use to argue 
with him, and then I asked him if he wanted to sell the 


A GLAD SURPRISE. 


177 


horse. He said if there was any way to get his cart back 
to Jersey, and he got his price for the animal, he^d sell him. 
I told him I liked apples and I’d buy them too, at whole- 
sale price. But he said the cart and cabbages would have 
to be taken home, any way. So I told him he could go 
home with his cart, and if he would take a fair price for 
the horse, I’d buy it this morning, if he’d bring it back to 
me. Says he, ^ I’ll take seventy-five dollars for that horse, 
and he’ll get all over his lameness in a couple of months.’ 
The horse looked up at me, kind of pitiful like, and acted 
as if he knew I was his friend. I went around and put my 
hand on his nose, and he laid his poor head down on my 
shoulder, and I tell you it was more then I could stand. I 
told him to bring the animal to me this morning, and I’d 
pay him the seventy-five dollars. And sure enough, he 
came around bright and early this morning leading the 
horse. I’ve had him taken to a stable, and told the hostler 
to give him all he could eat and take the best of care of 
him. The man looked up at me as if he thought I was 
crazy, and asked me if it wan’t a sassy question, he’d like 
to know where I bought the horse, and how much I paid 
for him. I told him, and you should have seen him open 
his eyes. He said it wasn’t worth wintering, and that the 
lame leg would grow worse all the time instead of better. 
But there’s one thing about it, that wretch of a man 
never’ll get a chance to beat the poor animal again!” 
and the tender-hearted spinster actually brushed away a 
tear as she stopped to take breath. 

*^It would have been better for you to have gone to the 
society with a long name and complained of the man. He 
could have been arrested for cruelty to dumb beasts, and 
the horse would have been taken away from him. It is a 
shame for the man to receive a prize for such brr tal treat- 
8 * 


178 


A GLAD 8URPBISE. 


ment to his horse. But you did it in good faith, I know ; 
thinking buying it the only alternative.” 

I did know all about that society you speak of ; but 
by the time I could have gone down there and back again 
the man might have been in Jericho, or some place else out 
of reach. Huntin’ up these societies that are organized to 
look after dumb beasts, is just about like sendin’ starvin’ 
folks to so-called charitable institutions. They’d die be- 
fore anything could be done for them. If I’d sent Pansey 
there, when I found her on the street that cold mornin’, 
instead of fetchin’ her here to your aunt, I’m sure I don’t 
know what would have become of the poor girl. There’s 
plenty of room for them that commit crime; but good 
honest folks don’t stand any kind of a chance in these 
great cities, if they’re poor and helpless.” 

“We are very thankful, Miss Forbes, that you did not 
send our little Pansey to a charitable institution on that 
day. She is the light of the house, and we should not 
know how to get along without her, now that we know her 
worth and gentle ministrations when either of us are ill or 
disheartened,” spoke Guy, casting an affectionate glance 
toward the now blushing Pansey, who was struggling with 
the obstinate basting threads with nervous haste, since she 
knew that the costume was to be taken to Helen Dunn, as 
soon as dinner was over. 

Miss Forbes had been invited to share this unpreten- 
tious meal with them, as she frequently had of late. 

It did not require much urging from the hostess, for it 
always seemed like home to the lonely spinster in the com- 
panionship of John Hurlbert’s aunt and nephew. Pansey 
had slipped upstairs to her small nest of a room, and 
changed her gown, in readiness to start on her mission of 
delivering the costume, as soon as dinner was over. She 
was delighted that Miss Forbes had decided to remain and 


A GLAD 8URPEI8E. 


179 


dine with them, because she would accompany her in the 
car as far as she went ; and although Pansey was a brave 
girl, and seldom knew what it was to be afraid while doing 
her duty after dark, any more than in the daylight, it was 
far more pleasant to have good company on her lonely car 
ride. This was the first time she had been sent to Major 
Dunnes house ; for this was a trial costume of the dress- 
maker's. If it suited her customer, Mrs. Withington was 
to be engaged as her regular modiste in the future. Some- 
times the destiny of a lifetime hangs upon just such a 
brittle thread. 

And now that their dinner is over, and Miss Forbes has 
said good night ” for the fifth time, let us follow our 
little heroine to the Dunn residence. She was accompanied 
by her spinster friend to the door, and then she walked 
briskly up the steps, and pulled the brightly polished bell- 
knob. It was opened by a colored porter, who gave a 
profound how, with rather a mysterious air, and asked her 
business. She had set the cumbersome box down to one 
side of the step, and raising it in her frail arms, put her 
taper fingers through the string with which it was fastened. 

I have brought home the young lady^s dress ; please 
can I see Mrs. Dunn or Miss Helen ?” 

You can wait in that chair till I see where you are to 
take it, miss,” said the sable porter, pointing with a digni- 
fied air to the large, black walnut chair in the hallway. 

Pansey dropped down in the chair, and sat staring at 
the refiection of herself in the long pier mirror on the 
opposite side of the wall. She made a beautiful picture, 
all unconscious as she was, of her own attractive sweetness. 
Just at that moment the street door was opened, and a tall, 
handsome young man entered. He stopped suddenly, gaz- 
ing first at the reflection in the mirror, and then at the 
timid and blushing maiden sitting beside the ponderous 


180 


A GLAD SURPRISE. 


packing box. His heart gave a threatening leap, and then 
seemed almost to cease beating. He removed his hat and 
stood before her with wondering eyes, as if she was some 
mythical being dropped there by the fairies. And still he 
stood gazing without attempting to address her. At length 
the awkwardness of the situation dawned upon Pansey, and 
she timidly explained, blushing like a damask rose, that 
she was an errand girl who had brought home l^Iiss Dunn’s 
dress. The musical voice was in harmony with the sweet, 
classic face, and as she folded her small white hands across 
her lap, and sat there as composedly as a princess after those 
few words of explanation, Jasperthought — for it was he who 
came so abruptly upon the waiting girl — he had never seen 
such a picture before. Every line and curve of her girlish 
face, every turn of her dainty head, and every movement 
of her restless, tapering fingers, were indelibly written upon 
his active brain ; and yet he spoke never a word. Pansey 
began to fidget in her chair a little, now, and wonder 
why the ebony porter did not return with his message from 
one of the ladies. 

Have you been waiting long ? It was not very polite 
in the porter to leave you here in the hall ; he should have 
shown you in the reception room !” spoke Jasper, at 
length, longing once again to hear the sound of that musi- 
cal voice, and see the sweet lips part in speech, revealing 
those two rows of pearls. 

Yes, sir. I have waited nearly or quite ten minutes ; 
but perhaps the porter could not find the ladies directly.” 
This with a vivid blush, and a smile, made all of sweet 
accord,” like Abo Ben Adim’s angel. 

Suddenly the young man’s countenance changed, and 
as if a heavy blow was struck at his heart’s core, he 
touched his hat to the young girl, and staggered up the 
stairs, saying he would "" see if he could find his mother or 


A GLAD SURPRISE. 


181 


Miss Helen.” But on the way he met the poi ter coming 
down with the message. 

Did you leave that young girl in the hall to await for 
your return, George ?” 

Yes, sah. I did, sah.” 

Well, then it is time you had learned better manners. 
You should have shown her in the reception room. See 
that you do not commit such a blunder again. It is dis- 
graceful !” 

Yes, sah. I’ll remember next time,” and he hur- 
ried on down to where Pansey sat like Patience on a monu- 
ment waiting for him. 

The young lady says you are to bring the box to her 
room, miss.” 

Pansey again picked up her bundle, and commenced to 
mount the softly carpeted stairs ; the sable waiter leading 
the way. 

Jasper lingered in the hallway, loathe to lose sight of 
this bright vision, which, after all, was nothing but his 
betrothed’s dressmaker’s errand girl. It hurt him to see 
her carrying that cumbersome box, while the porter went 
up the stairs empty handed, as well as empty headed. 
He turned around to him, and administered another 
rebuke, saying : 

“ George, why don’t you take that box and bring it up 
for her ? you ought to be ashamed to let her cany such a 
large box up stairs, when you have nothing in your useless 
hands.” 

George began to wonder at so much reproof from Jas- 
per. It was something new. He had never been in the 
habit of finding fault with the servants. Although the 
porter’s head was too thick to define the real cause of this 
fitful outburst of reproof, he could not help connecting it. 


182 


A GLAD SURPRISE. 


in some way, with the errand girl he was conducting to 
Miss Helenas room. 

But now they were at the door, and after a double 
knock upon it from George^s fist, Pansey was admitted, 
and he handed her the box he had taken from her at Jas- 
per’s command. 

Instead of going directly to his mother’s room, as was 
Jasper’s habit when he came home from business, he 
sought the seclusion of his own room ; dropping down in 
the nearest chair, and staring at nothing in particular, as 
if suddenly bereft of his mind. 

Mrs. Dunn was in Helen’s room when Pansey bustled 
in with her immense box, and at sight of her fresh young 
face, so sweet and guileless, she gave a sudden start of sur- 
prise and admiration. She thought, too, that there seemed 
to be a strange familiarity in that beautiful face. But she 
could not understand what it was, and so she greeted the 
shy girl with the question : “ Are you from Mrs. Withing- 
ton’s, my girl ?” 

Yes, madam ! I am her errand girl, and she wished 
me to stay till the young lady had tried on the dress to see 
if she was suited,” and Pansey stood, waiting for a reply. 

“ If you will send the girl out, mamma, I will try it on 
now. I am anxious to see what it is like,” and Helen cast 
a patronizing glance at the anxious Pansey's auburn hair 
and bright, round eyes. 

** I will take you in my room, and you can wait there 
till Miss Helen is ready to tell you how it suits,” said the 
bustling little woman. “ What is your name my girl ? we 
shall want something to call you, if we are to have you 
deliver our packages this winter.” 

** Pansey, please, is what I am called at home.” 

** That is a very pretty name, and very appropriate for 
you, too. Are your parents living, Pansey ?” 


A GLAD 6URFBISB. 


183 


No, madam ! not that I know of ! but I have a very 
nice home with Mrs. Withington, and she allows me to call 
her Auntie. I go to school and am in the grammar 
department. I do the errands after school hours.^’ 

Here a rap came on the door, and when Pansey looked 
up, on the entrance of the new comer, she was face to face 
with Jasper again. He could not stay anywhere long to- 
night ; and he began to hate himself for this strange new 
impulse which filled his entire being. He said over and 
over again, mentally, What a treacherous wretch I am ! 
Engaged to one young lady, and unable to banish the face, 
or cease to hear the voice of another, and strange one. 
And not a young lady, either ! Only an errand girl, to 
bring my Helen’s costumes to her.” 

His mother noticed the strange new light in her son’s 
eyes, as he turned them upon Pansey ; and not being aware 
that they had met before, she said : 

My son, this is little Pansey ; our dressmaker’s errand 

girl.” 

^'Little Pansey !” How that poetic name rang through 
his ears. It seemed in perfect rythm with her angelic face 
and pure, sweet voice. ** Little Pansey ! Heaven help 
me to bear my fate I Why was this siren sent here for me 
to see ? Little Pansey ! Heaven help me I” were his all- 
absorbing thoughts, formed into a prayer. 


184 


guy’s new position. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 
guy’s new position. 

Early the next morning Guy started, with his Aunt’s 
and Pansey’s blessing, for the banking-house of Dunn & 
Fairvveather. Notwithstanding the mercury had fallen 
several degrees since last night, his spirits had arisen higher 
than they had been for years before. It had hitherto been 
his custom to walk down town from his aunt’s house. This 
morning, however, he took a stage for a more speedy 
transit than his legs would afford him. 

After being hindered by several blockades, which stops 
seemed to him three times as long as they really were, he 
found himself opposite the banking-house in question. 
He pulled the strap and jumped hurriedly from the stage, 
ran up the broad stone steps, and was soon ushered into the 
presence of Mr. Fairweather. How carelessly, and thought- 
lessly we ofttimes walk toward our destiny ; and how a step 
backward, or forward, the delay of a moment, or a pre- 
mature advent, may seal our fate for life ; and still we rush 
madly on, in spite of all these intricate, inner workings of 
life’s strange machinery, without stopping to consider 
what the consequences will be. 

Mr. Fairweather looked up from his desk to which he 
had just sat down when our hero entered his office, and 
noticed the well-knit proportions of the young man’s 
frame, scarcely recognizing him as the one who applied for 
a position more than a year before. 

** My name is Guy Hurlbert, sir. I came in answer to 


guy’s new posraoN. 


185 


a letter from you, which I received last night, after busi- 
ness hours.” 

Oh yes ! I remember now ! Sit down, please ! I will 
be at liberty to talk with you presently and he turned 
again to his desk, and opened letter after letter, some of 
which went into the waste basket, and others were placed 
on the file. At last the envelopes had all been opened, and 
taking up those letters which were to be answered at once, 
he left the room, and carried them to the clerk of corre- 
spondence. 

He came back, and again seated himself at the desk, 
looking somewhat perplexed and puzzled. Guy watched 
every movement of his face with intense iinxiety. What if 
he had changed his mind after all, and decided not to 
employ him ? He thought it would be more than he could 
bear, after such an elevation of his hopes. 

The silence seemed oppressive now, to Guy, and he 
attempted to break it by making some trivial remark of 
the most .commonplace character. But his utterance 
seemed to be choked by a great lump in his throat, and he 
sat still in’silence, waiting for something to happen ; any- 
thing that would break the spell, and relieve him from his 
suspense, which was getting almost intolerable. 

Mr. Fairweather cleared his throat, and began : 
lam at a loss to know exactly how to manage this 
case, Mr. Hurlbert. It is more of a complicated one than 
you suppose.” 

Guy stared at him blankly ; but ventured no remark. 
The banker paused a moment, and then went on : 

Have you a middle name, Mr. Hurlbert ?” 

‘‘1 have, sir. It is Kumford! My great-grandfather 
was the Earl of Kumford, and I was christened for him. 
But titles are not of much account in America,” returned 
Guy. 


186 


gdy’s new position 


‘‘ For a reason, which I cannot now explain, it will not 
do for you to go by the name of Hurlbert. Sometime I 
may be at liberty, and think it best, to tell my reasons. 
Now, if you have no objections, and for the sake of taking 
this position, which is the best you could find under any 
circumstances in a new business, we will call you Guy 
Rumford. What are your feelings in regard to it, young 
man ?” 

** It is not a very pleasant thing to go under a false 
name, or to conceal part of one’s real name, to which there 
is no stigna attached except poverty,” replied Guy, in 
brave defense of the Hurlbert name. ‘‘ But, if the fact of 
my father’s death amid poverty has come up to stand be- 
tween me and a place in which to earn my daily bread, I 
suppose I must lay that name aside for aAvhile, however it 
may grate upon my manhood, or however much it may 
appear to reflect upon my dead father’s good name.” 

There was a great sob in his voice as he ended ; for he 
supposed that by some means Mr. Fairweather had learned 
his parent’s history, and that their life and sorrowful death 
in that miserable tenement, was why the banker wished 
him to change his name, before he would promise to take 
him as clerk in their house. 

Mr. Fairweather fumbled among the papers upon his 
desk and waited for the much-agitated Guy to answer, 
who at length arose and paced the floor, mentally calling 
upon Almighty wisdom to direct him aright in this hour 
of doubt and indecision. 

The banker watched him with a feeling of respect in 
his heart for this manifestation of paternal reverence. For 
he well knew by the young man’s manner what a severe 
struggle it was between honoring his dead parents and the 
loss of what he had been trying for three years to secure. 

“ It seems like selling my birthright for a mess of pot- 


gut’s new position. 


187 


tage, sir ! with all due respect to you for giving me the 
position with what seems so slight a sacrifice on my part,” 
spoke Guy at length. 

Well, if you feel as if you would like to consider it 
and advise with your aunt — I think you told me a year 
ago that you lived with an aunt — I will wait until to- 
morrow for your decision,” replied the banker. 

Thus reminded of his aunt, and her advice, his mind 
suddenly changed. He thought if he consulted her, she 
would only be too glad of this change of name for an 
excuse to send him back to college, and it would be folly 
to let this long sought opportunity pass him. What was 
his name, after all, compared to the consummation of his 
one fond hope in business life ? It weighed as a mere 
feather in the balance to him now. 

He sat down once more beside the man who would do 
all in his power to befriend him. 

‘‘I have decided to accept the position on your terms, 
sir. I hope I shall not have reason to regi-et this seemingly 
disloyal course ; that is, disloyal to my dead father’s mem- 
ory. 

‘‘ I do not think you will ever regret your choice, 
young man. Nor do I consider it in the light of a dis- 
loyal act, by any means. It is an unavoidable com- 
promise. A choice out of two evils, which I believe 
beyond a doubt, you will eventually find to be the least.” 

Guy felt greatly relieved after it was all settled, and as 
he called himself over and over again by his new name, he 
began to think he was almost a stranger to himself. 

Shall I commence upon my duties at once, sir; or 
have you made other arrangements for to-day at my 
desk ?” 

“ It is ready at any time you desire to commence, Mr. 
Rumford !” and he led the way to the cashier’s depart- 


188 


guy’s new position 


ment, and after a few words of explanation to the cashier, 
he left them to arrange their business duties between 
themselves. 

Fortunately, this cashier was an honorable business 
man, and he treated Guy with great kindness and consid- 
eration. And the young man strained every nerve to 
understand and remember the instructions given him. 
Although busily engaged every minute of that forenoon, it 
seemed an almost endless one to our hero. 

At noon he went out to a restaurant, near by, and took 
a cup of coffee and a sandwich ; but he was so much 
absorbed in the books he had left behind in the office that 
he did not relish this hasty bite. He was soon at his post 
again, and hard at work. 

But let us leave him for a while, and look into the 
next office to see what Jasper, the young amateur artist, 
has been busy about, while the other clerks were out 
lunching. It was only the rough sketch of a young 
errand girl made from memory the night before. But 
he was as thoroughly versed in his subject as if it were 
directly before him. Every curve of tlie classic features, 
the unstudied pose of the dainty head, the luminous, 
pathetic eyes, the dimpled cheeks, over which a soft blush 
stole, as upon the heart of a white rose, or the bursting 
bud of a pond lily ; the parted lips, revealing a glimpse of 
those glossy pearls. All these charms are represented in 
this revelation of art, inspired by that divine passion 
which has hitherto been slumbering in the young artistes 
breast. And yet, while he works over this new and absorb- 
ing study, he feels like a culprit and a guilty creature, for 
indulging in the delightful reverie this face inspires. He 
controls his emotions as best he can, and works over this 
sketch as if he fain would make himself credit the delusion 
that it was for love of art alone that he drew the brush 


guy’s new position. 


189 


over the golden brown hair, and then gazed upon it to note 
the effect of each new touch. Before this divine creature 
the face of Helen faded into oblivion. He tried to arouse 
himself from this delicious dream, and force his thoughts 
back into their former channels. But he might as well 
have attempted to turn the Mississippi again to its source. 
He had now learned to consider expression — reproduced 
upon canvas — the soul of art. Hitherto his portrait sketch- 
ing had been centered upon the representations of perfectly 
moulded features, like Helen’s. Now he began to see his 
deficiency in true artistic genius. It taught him a new 
phase in art life, as well as real life, and he compared 
finely moulded features to the artistic chiselling upon a 
diamond ; while expression, such as the original of his 
sketch possessed, was like the color and glow which scin- 
tillated in the depths of the gem, as pulses on fire. 

He laid aside his brush, and put away the study care- 
fully in his desk drawer, when it was time to commence 
business again, and he had not tasted of food that day since 
breakfast. He had worked over the sketch all the time 
usually spent in lunching at the restaurant. But he had 
no appetite, and so he did not go out at all. He went in 
to speak to the cashier for a few minutes, and there found 
the new assistant hard at work over his books. He started 
a little, at first sight of him, and then remembered that 
it was the same face that "greeted him more than a year 
since ; and yet, it seemed that the familiarity of features 
and expression dated farther back than that*. 

But first days at a new business come to an end at last, 
as all days must ; and to Guy the hour of five o’clock came 
as a welcome relief. He had worked harder to accomplish 
a little, than he did in after months and years to do great 
things in his line of commercial life. But he did not mind 
the work, if he only suited his employers. To fail now. 


190 


guy’s new position. 


after finding a chance to do the business he so much desired, 
would be a terrible mortification to his sensitive and proud 
nature. 

He closed his books, turned out the gas at his desk, and 
went to the hat and coat room to equip himself for a cold 
ride in the stage. Mr. Fairweather was in there for the 
same purpose ; for he did not leave the banking-house 
earlier than his clerks, and oftentimes he was the last one 
to quit the building. 

He had a kind word of encouragement for his new clerk, 
nor did he fail to note Guy’s dazed look, and the tired 
expression of his full, gray eyes. 

“You will not find the work so hard to-morrow,” he 
said kindly. “ It will grow less tiresome after a better 
acquaintance with your duties.” 

“ Getting tired is the least of my concern in the business, 
sir ! My only aim is to give satisfaction,” replied Guy. 

“ That is the sure road to success, my young friend. 
Your chances of reaching the topmost round of the ladder 
is quite as good as others who have just made the first step.” 

These words of encouragement from his employer, raised 
Guy’s hopes considerably, and he hurried on his coat, anx- 
ious to get home, and tell his aunt and Pansey the day’s 
happenings. While he was thus engaged, Jasper entered 
the room, apparently oblivious to his presence, as he stood 
in one comer where he was partially obscured from sight, 
and Mr. Fairweather had already gone. 

Jasper carefully unrolled a small parcel from the tissue 
paper in which it was wrapped, and taking it over directly 
under the gas jet, gazed eagerly and fondly at the picture. 
He drew a prolonged sigh, and looking up suddenly, saw 
that he was not alone. 

“Excuse me, for my seeming rudeness, but I had not 
noticed there was any one beside myself in here. I was 


guy’s new position. ' 


191 


very much absorbed in a new study, over which I have been 
at work, and was a trifle absent-minded. I believe you are 
the new assistant cashier,’’ and he turned a questioning 
glance upon Guy. 

Yes I That is, I have undertaken to master the diflB- 
culties in such a position. I expect, however, to find it up- 
hill work. I am just from college, and know comparative- 
ly little of the methods of conducting business in a bank- 
ing-house like this.” 

** I should think a professional career would be more to 
your taste than commercial life. It seems a waste of 
powder, so to speak, for a college graduate to choose a 
business of this prosaic kind,” spoke Jasper, thinking sadly, 
how dull and prosy it seemed to him. 

Perhaps most college graduates do look upon com- 
mercial Iflce as requiring less brain-work than a profession ; 
but I think it takes even more intelligence to become a 
successful banker or commission merchant. I have a great 
many misgivings in regard to my abilities in this direction ; 
but I shall not abandon it until I have made sure that I 
cannot succeed. However, I ought not to burden a stranger 
with my own private affairs ; but my mind is so engrossed 
in this effort that I sometimes forget that others are not 
equally interested with myself,” continued Guy, apologeti- 
cally, turning to leave the coat-room. 

I hope we shall not be strangers, sir ; but I have not 
the pleasure to know your name ?” 

Hurl — ah — Rumford !” stammered Guy, suddenly 
recollecting his new name. 

Indeed ! A fine old English name. The present 
Earl of Rumford is expected here this winter, and is to 
have a private reception, I understand. We expect to 
meet him in society circles — that is Miss Helen Dunn and 


192 


gut’s new position. 


myself. Perhaps you are not aware that I am Major Dunn’s 
step-son, Mr. Kumford.” 

I was not, although I had learned that he had a step- 
son in the banking-house,” and Guy looked as if he felt a 
trifle disappointed at this piece of information. For he 
had learned to look upon the head of the Arm as a tyrant, 
and was sorry that so pleasant and apparently good a young 
man, should be subject to his overbearing rule at home, as 
well as in business hours. 

^*You spoke of the present Earl of Rumford, and that 
he was expected to visit America this winter. He is a rel- 
ative of mine. I do not exactly know how near, however. 
My great-grandfather was the Earl of Rumford, a century 
ago. Grandmother had the poor taste to elope with an 
English opera-singer — an artist in his line — but you can 
readily see it was descending many degrees below English 
nobility to fall in love and marry one of unknown birth 
and station.” 

Yes ; I suppose so. But the direction one’s love will 
turn is as unaccountable as it is unhappy in its results,” re- 
plied Jasper reflectively, a slight color rising to his cheeks. 

know. But it is generally best for all concerned to 
control such ill-timed passions. They sometimes lead to a 
great deal of distress, and oft-times to open disgrace;” and 
Guy’s thoughts turned to his own family history, and the 
devastation runaway matches had wrought for them. And 
Jasper was thinking of his betrothal to one young lady, 
and his overpowering, helpless love for another, and that 
other — an errand 'girl! 

He moved toward the light again, so that the blaze fell 
full upon the sketch in his hand, saying : 

Mr Rumford, would you care to look at one of my 
poor attempts at portrait painting? My mind is not in a 


'gut’s new position. 


193 


banking-house ; you see. It is wholly centered upon my 
one inspiration — art.’’ 

He turned the likeness of the young girl toward Guy, 
and held it for a moment in the bright light. One look 
was sufficient for Guy to recognize the face it represented. 
He started, and colored slightly. But Jasper only inter- 
preted this manifestation of surprise to the same reason 
why he himself could not look upon it calmly. A feeling 
akin to jealousy for a moment took possession of him. 

‘‘It is a beautiful face, and I should think very artis- 
tically executed. But I am always chary of expressing my 
uncultivated opinions upon so divine a subject as art ; 
although my father was both poet and artist. But where 
did you find this angelic face? or was it a mere conception 
of your own?” 

“Oh, no, Mr Eumford. She is an errand girl, who 
brings my mother’s and Miss Helen’s costumes from their 
dressmaker. I saw her for the first time last night, and 
sketched her face from memory.” 

Guy was on the point of saying that he must have a 
remarkable memory, but he stopped just in time to conceal 
the fact that he had seen the original himself. For some 
reason he did not wish to reveal that knowledge to the 
young man before him. He trembled for both Pansey and 
Jasper, and felt alarmed at the young man’s evident emo- 
tions as he gazed in rapture upon the copy of this lovely 
young errand girl’s face. He thought, perhaps, it might in 
the end bring disgrace and ruin upon the girl. 

But now the janitor came around to see that the lights 
were extinguished, and Jasper took out his watch, and 
found that they had been conversing nearly an hour, 
for the hands pointed to six. The two young men, who 
had so unceremoniously made each other’s acquaintance, 
went down together and out into the street, which had 
9 


194 \ 


guy’s new position. 


quieted down from the deafening rumble of traffic. The 
sidewalk venders had not all left their stands. A few had 
remained to catch the trade of the last stragglers from the 
great commercial houses. 

‘^Do you go up in the stage, Mr. Kumford, or take the 
elevated for more rapid transit? For my own part I still 
cling to the plodding old stages. The elevated cars are so 
crowded at this time of day.” 

I go in the stage, because it takes me so much nearer 
home than the elevated cars,” replied Guy. ‘‘ Shall we go 
up together ?” 

‘‘If you will wait while I go to the vender on the 
opposite corner and get a corsage bouquet for Miss Dunn to 
wear at dinner. She always expects me to bring her one, 
and I do not like to disappoint her.” 

So saying, he left Guy on the banking-house steps, and 
went to the old flower vender, who had come to know and 
look for his young customer each night. He culled over 
the nosegays more critically than usual, and seemed harder 
to please ; but the vender was rewarded by selling a double 
portion of these sweet gifts of nature. He had his selections 
wrapped in a paper ; but not until Guy had noticed that 
one of them was a small bunch of pansies. Then Jasper 
hailed a stage, and the two got in together. 


A FAMILY TALE. 


195 


CHAPTER XXV. 

A FAMILY TALK. 

After dinner, Guy related to his attentive listeners his 
first day^s experience in the banking business. Pansey sat 
upon a low stool at one side of our hero, while his aunt 
swayed to and fro in her willow rocker opposite. 

“ Do tell us all about it, Guy, for we have talked of 
nothing else to-day except about the work, and Pansey is 
as anxious to hear as I am.” 

Well, then, in the first place I am no longer Guy 
Hurlbert. I have changed my name since morning. 
Auntie.” 

Changed your wame, did you say, my boy ?” 

Changed your name, Mr. Guy ? How very funny I” 
and Pansey’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. 

Yes I It must either be that or lose the position, and 
so I bowed to fate, and adopted the new name.” 

And what may we call you now, then, pray ?” 

‘*Guy, if you pleace; simply Guy, at home. But I 
have assumed the more noble cognomen of Eumford, which 
is to be my business name !” and he gave a short, nervous 
laugh, which did not reach far below the surface. 

“ Now, if you have jested long enough, please explain 
what all this incredible nonsense is about, Guy !” replied 
his aunt, looking very much as if she considered the whole 
matter a joke. 

“ Well, to make a long story short, then, my dear aunt, 
I will state that Mr. Fairweatlier informed me on my arrival 


196 


A FAMILY TALK. 


at the banking-house this morning, that for reasons he could 
not now very well explain, it would be impossible for me to 
fill the position bearing my rightful name. Could there 
have been any stigma attached to that name, except what 
extreme poverty entailed. Auntie 

There is no stigma, whatever, attached to the name 
of Hurlbert in this particular family, to my knowledge, 
Guy. The only one who ever did anything to disgrace us 
was your uncle John, in the way of drinking too much, 
sometimes ; but he is no longer on earth to trouble any of 
his remaining relatives, poor fellow ; as I told you that day 
in the Astor House, when you were a boy ten years old. 
How could Mr. Fairweather have known anything about 
your dead father’s poverty. And even if he did, is poverty 
a crime, that the children should be punished for, by being 
driven to change their names before even a place in which 
to toil for their bread should be granted them ? It some- 
times seems as if there were neither justice in earth or 
heaven. I fear I am getting to be wicked and rebellious 
lately. When I think how hopelessly some of us have to 
toil, never reaping any of its fruits until it is too late to be 
of use to us ; and I see others gathering in the golden 
sheaves, who do not deserve them, and who have never 
been in any way of the least benefit to a human beiug in 
all their useless lives ; I wonder what we were created for.” 

Pansey looked with open-eyed wonder at this sudden 
outburst from the usually calm and trustful Mrs. Withing- 
ton. 

Why, Auntie ! I am glad that I am not the only one 
who has such thoughts. But it is more wicked in me, 
because I have been taken care of when I couldn’t do any- 
thing for myself. I am afraid, now that I come to think it 
over, that I am one of the urseless ones, gathering in the 
golden sheaves which some one else has sown.” 


A. FAMILY TALK. 


107 


“ Now, my little Pansey Blossom, I shall not allow you 
to talk that way about yourself. What should I have done 
that dreadful night on the train coming from Kansas, or 
later, after we arrived home, without you to nurse and con- 
sole me ? Your short life has all been made up of useful- 
ness to others. The doctor has told me how you watched 
over the poor woman who took you away from the organ- 
grinder’s boy. You have a brave champion in that little 
city doctor, Pansey,” said Guy. 

‘‘Well, for my part, I feel rebuked by that innocent 
girl for my rash and foolish speech. I will try and be more 
thankful for my mercies in future. But it seems some- 
times as if one must give vent to their rebellious thoughts. 
The better way would be to crush them in the bud, I sup- 
pose.” 

At this juncture there was a ring at the bell, and when 
Magaret opened the door. Miss Forbes rushed past her, as 
if running away from the falling snow-flakes, and rapped 
upon the workroom door with the handle of her umbrella. 
Pansey opened the door, and was unceremoniously greeted 
by a vigorous stamp of the spinster’s feet, and a resolute 
shake of her long fur cloak. 

“ I expect we’re in for a hard, cold snow-storm. The 
wind is in jest the right quarter for it, and there’s a fine, 
solid coatin’ of ice to cover up, so that people can break 
their bones without the trouble of goin’ to a roller skatin’ 
rink. Well ! how are you all ? You looh well, and that’s 
half the battle, anyhow ! For my part, I got so lonesome I 
couldn’t stand it in my room alone no longer. You see, 
good company down here’s what’s brought me out in this 
snow-storm!” and she paused, to inflate her exhausted 
lungs. 

“ Why, is it snowing fast. Miss Forbes ? It was bright 
starlight about the time we lighted the gas, and I 


198 


A FAMILY TALK. 


thought we were going to have a clear, cold night. I am 
real sorry there is likely to bo a storm to-morrow,” said 
Pansey, ruefully. 

Why, to-morrow, any more than another day, child ?” 
queried the spinster. 

Because Mr. Guy has to go to business now, and iPs 
hard getting through big snowdrifts. 

Why you silly little puss. Mr. Guy is a brave young 
man, and not afraid of snowdrifts. You are' the one to get 
the worst of it, if there is any worst to it, going out on 
errands. Snow clings to petticoats worse than it does to 
trousers,” and here the exhausted spinster seated herself in 
an easy chair, placed by the ever gallant Guy beside him- 
self. 

I suppose you remember that horse I told you about 
the other night — dear me ! though I do believe ’twas 
last night ! Time drags awful slow-like it seems to me ;” 
lowering her voice, as if these last words were spoken to 
herself. 

Yes, I remember. I could scarcely forget such devo- 
tion to dumb beasts as you evinced when you paid seventy- 
five dollars for a worthless horse,” answered Guy. 

Well, I must tell you what happened this mornin \ 
You see the truth is, Pve come to the tail end of my horse 
scheme, so to speak. The hostler took him out of his stall 
to groom his rough skin, as I’d asked him to yesterday, 
and the first thing that hostler knew, the old creetur’s tail 
dropped right off ! Yes, actually fell off on to the stable 
floor.” 

“ Ho must have been very badly put together. Miss 
Forbes,” laughed Guy ; while Pansey and Mrs. Withington 
stared at their visitor, as if they considered it all a very odd 
joke. 

“Yes,” continued she, “it really and truly did! and 


A FAMILY TALK. 


199 


the hostler said it was a very sad tale ho had to tell me about 
my horse. Well, you see that long, handsome tail of his, 
was the unfortunate critter’s best feature, so to speak, and 
I could never endure to look at him after such a calamity ; 
for to tell the truth, he was the very worst lookin’ object I 
ever seen, with that little stub of a tail stickin’ straight up 
in the air. The wretched beast seemed to know it, too, for 
he looked dreadful sheepish-like when I came in and gazed 
at him with disappointment writ all over my own face. 
Well, the end of it all was, I told the groom to give him a 
good strong dose of clareform, and put him out the world as 
easy-like as possible, for I knew he’d out-lived his useful- 
ness, like a great many human beings, that can’t he put out 
of the way, no matter how much them that have to keep ’em 
round wish they could get rid of them. Well, I’m powerful 
glad it’s all over, and the poor creetur is gone where he’ll 
have a long rest, if he did cost me seventy-five dollars I” 
and she brushed away a little salt drop from her cheek, 
which was shed more for the sad fate of her horse, than the 
loss of the money she paid for him. 

‘‘Well, now, Mr. Guy, I should like to know how you 
got on with your new business to-day.” 

Here Guy related the same story he had already told 
his aunt and Panscy ; which tale surprised the spinster very 
much. 

While they were thus engaged in conversation, there 
came two quick, sharp strokes of the bell. 

“ A messenger boy !” spoke Guy. 

“It may be one of my customers,” suggested Mrs. 
Withington, who had her mind so burdened with these 
troublesome beings, that she thought no one else would be 
likely to come to her house at that time in the evening. 
Panscy was at the door before Margaret had gotten as far as 
the lower stair of the basement fiight. A small boy stood 


200 


A FAMILY TALK. 


upon the steps, tightly clutching a carefully wrapped 
package. 

Does this be Mrs. Withiugton’s house ?” he asked, in 
a rather girlish voice. 

Yes ; is this package for her ?” questioned Pansey. 

No, miss ; I spects iPs for you. Is your name Pansey, 
and do you run errands for the dressmaker ?” 

Yes ; I am Pansey, and I do errands. Are you sure 
it is for me ?” 

Yes, I’m dead sure it’s for you. The gentleman what 
sent it told me to be sure not to give it to nobody but 
Pansey.” 

She took the parcel from thoboy’s hand with a perplexed 
and half incredulous look, and asking him to wait till she 
returned, ran back into the workroom. With trembling 
fingers she unrolled the delicate tissue paper, when a lovely 
bunch of fresh pansies greeted her astonished gaze, and a 
small slip of paper fluttered to the floor. She stooped and 
picked it up with a flushed face, and going near the light 
read : ^‘For little Pansey, from her friend Jasper.” 

Mystified and perplexed, she went over to Guy, and 
handed him the note, saying : 

I do not know any one by that name, is not there some 
mistake, Mr. Guy ?” 

Guy did not remember of ever having heard that name, 
but he did recollect the beautiful bunch of pansies, and he 
readily surmised where they were from, and thought he 
understood the sentiment which prompted his new 
acquaintance to send them to the errand girl. 

Take these, and wrap them up again, Pansey, and 
give them to the messenger boy to return to the sender, 
and tell him to say that you do not accept bouquets from 
strangers.” 

Pansey obeyed him without hesitation, and dismissed 
the boy with an air of dignity, such as an offended princess 


A FAMILy TALK. 


201 


might assume. But all the while her heart beat like a 
drum stick, and she was in a whirl of excitement. 

The two women sat staring at the young people as if 
they could think of no fitting words to express their astonish- 
ment, and they did not find their tongues until it was all 
over, and the excited girl came back into the workroom and 
dropped into a chair, her face looking about as white as her 
little ruffled cambric apron. 

'' What is this all about ?” exclaimed the two woman 
in a breath, after they had recovered their power of speech ; 
glaring first at Guy and then at Pansey, as if they were 
both guilty culprits, who had been plotting some crime 
together. 

It is nothing much, ladies ; only some one has made 
a mistake, and sent a messenger to the wrong place with a 
bouquet.” 

Pansey looked at Guy with a frightened stare, as 
if she feared the floor might open and swallow him 
out of sight, for such a piece of dissembling. But he 
looked as innocent as if nothing unusual had happened. 
The two women felt very much relieved to know it was 
nothing worse than the mistake of a messenger boy. And 
yet they could not account for Pansey’s pallor and apparent 
excitement on scientific principles. And so they told her 
there was no occasion to be frightened for a slight blunder 
like that. And Pansey made no answer. 

She was not like a society young lady, who is the happy 
recipient of bouquets every day, nearly. She had never 
been noticed in that way before, in her humble and barren 
life amid poverty. It made her pulses flutter, and her 
breath come in quick short gasps. Then her pallor turned 
to a feverish crimson, and her head whirled, and her tem- 
ples throbbed with the intensity of her emotions. Some- 
how, she felt as if the gift was not intended for any disre- 
9 * 


202 


A FAMILY TALK. 


spect to herself, or unlawful designs on the part of the 
donor. Impression, or instinct, seemed very strong in this 
young girl. She could generally guess at what was false 
and what was true in people’s motives. And after a few 
minutes thought, she seemed to be impressed with the 
idea that it was the young man whom she had met at 
Major Dunn’s, the night before, who had sent the bunch of 
pansies. She had not heard his name called; but she 
thought Jasper an appropriate one for so handsome a 
young gentleman. 

But why did he think of sending an humble errand 
girl like herself, who had lugged a cumbersome box to his 
house, such a beautiful gift as flowers?” she soliloquized. 
She did not look upon herself as at all a suitable person for 
the bestowal of such presents. And yet it was very sweet 
to her girlish heart to be thus remembered by the rich and 
handsome young gentleman. It quickened her heart-beats 
a little, as she thought it over, but she dare not indulge in 
a hope that some day she might know more of this new ac- 
quaintance. While her thoughts were thus running riot 
through her brain, her little, taper fingers were moving 
nervously among the basting threads of the sack she held 
in her lap, and Mrs. Withington and her spinster friend 
were consulting together over the furbelows which were to 
adorn the latter’s new toilet. As for Guy, he watched the 
excited girl in silence, and imagined he could interpret her 
thoughts by the quiver of her sensitive mouth, and the 
fluttered manner in which she pulled at the closely adher- 
ing basting threads. He was very much puzzled at 
Jasper’s actions. He thought he did not appear like a 
young man who would amuse himself with an innocent and 
unprotected girl; for he seemed too manly and open-hearted 
for such wickedness. But his favorable impressions of 
Jasper were somewhat shaken by this imprudent act. 


A FAMILY TALK. 


203 


lie LOW began to take a new and deejoer interest in this 
unknown young orphan girl. His gallantry asserted 
itself, and a fresh impulse to guard and protect her took 
possession of him. Would it develope into something 
deeper and broader and stronger, as the months went by ? 
She was now the only young girl with whom he had any 
especial acquaintance, strange as it may seem. He had 
hitherto been so full of care and hard study, that he found 
no time to cultivate his social qualities. His kind and 
motherly aunt had filled his small and limited world 
altogether, socially. 

That night, when Pansey retired to her room, the 
fancy seized her to go to the small trunk that Mrs. With- 
ington had given her, and overhaul her trinkets, which 
were so associated with the past and the hallowed memory 
of her dead benefactress. 

She had experienced very strange and conflicting emo- 
tions, taken altogether that night, and she could scarcely 
tell whether Joy or unhappiness predominated. She 
clasped the treasured trinket box between her small hands, 
and knelt at the bedside to offer up her evening prayer for 
protection through the night. She had a little extra peti- 
tion to put up that evening, too. In the most simple 
manner, she asked the Lord to forgive her for feeling 
pleased when that bright bunch of pansies came to her 
from such an unexpected source ; and then she ended by 
asking that the giver might not be offended because she 
had returned them with that harsh message dictated by 
Guy. How helpless we poor mortals all are, and how 
surely the time comes, sooner or later, when we must cry 
out in our helplessness for strength and wisdom from on 
high. 

She arose from her knees with a feeling that the Lord 
had heard her simple petition, and sat upon the bed to 


204 


A FAMILY TALK. 


reflect, comforted witli the assurance of Divine protection 
and guidance. 

Then a wish that somehow she could have a revelation 
of who she was and what had been her origin, took posses- 
sion of her. She thought if she only knew that secret, it 
might give her the right to be noticed and treated as an 
equal, by the very ones she now had to serve as an inferior. 

Her tears fell thick and fast upon her folded hands, 
and yet she could scarcely tell why she shed those saline 
drops. The girl was altogether a little bundle of inconsis- 
tencies that night. She was but a child in the experience 
of society ways, and so she felt almost like rebelling against 
Guy’s interference in commanding her to return the bou- 
quet with that harsh message. 

She could not for a moment harbor suspicious thoughts 
toward the one who had sent her this little offering, and 
thrills of something akin to joy brought swift blushes to 
her cheeks, and dilated the pupils of her soft, liquid eyes. 
This was the turning point in the girl’s life, and she was 
no longer the contented and happy errand girl of the week 
before. 

At length Pansey began to grow sleepy, and so she put 
away the cherished reminders of her young life with 
“ Aunty Malony,” and drying her tears, sought the repose 
of her pillow. She sighed herself to sleep ; but had she 
been called to account on awakening the next morning, 
she could not have given a very satisfactory explanation of 
her perplexed and disturbing emotions. But, fortunately, 
there was no one who would, or who had the right to c^l 
her to account. And so her girlish life slipped by. 


A STRUGGLE TO BE HONORABLE. 


205 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

A STRUGGLE TO BE HONORABLE. 

When the messenger boy returned to Jasper Montrose 
with the rejected bunch of pansies, it was such an unex- 
pected repulse, that he scolded the unhappy lad as the cul- 
prit who had made some blunder in the delivery. He could 
scarcely believe that the girl was well enough versed in the 
wickedness of the world to be suspicious of this well-intended 
gift, whicli he thought so appropriate to her name and 
flower-like face. 

Are you telling me the truth, boy ? That she would 
send me such a message, I doubt very much.” 

The boy insisted that he had told the truth and nothing 
else, and gave him additional particulars, each word of 
which gave the sensitive and infatuated young man a fresh 
stab. 

He dismissed the messenger and carried the rejected 
little nosegay up to his room ; for it was nearly ten o^clock 
when the boy returned, and he had bidden his mother and 
Helen good-night, and left them fifteen minutes before. 

On reaching his sleeping chamber, he unrolled the 
paper from the bouquet, and held it for a moment before 
him, in silent admiration of the exquisite tintings and 
soft velvety petals of the bright blossoms. Then he 
remembered that her dear little hands had clasped them ; 
and regardless of the snub she had administered to his bold- 
ness, he held the flowers to his lips and kissed them. But 


9M 


A STRUGGLE TO BE HONORABLE. 


no sooner had he committed this spontaneous act of folly, 
t han he mentally called himself a traitor. And yet it was 
hut the one grand passion of his being asserting itself. He 
was as powerless to stay it as a beggar peasant would be in 
an attempt to dethrone the emperor who ruled over him. 
As helpless as a galley slave to free himself from the chains 
which fetter him. He had hitherto been clear-headed 
enough not to make such ludicrous mistakes as he commit- 
ted that night. He removed his shoes to replace them by 
his toilet slippers ; and no sooner had he done this, than he 
put his shoes upon his feet again, and buttoned them. 
Then he picked up a slipper, and attempted to pull it on 
over his shoes. Finding that it refused to go on, he held 
it up to see if he had his own slippers. At length it dawned 
upon him that it would be easier to get them upon his feet 
if his shoes were removed ; never suspecting that he had 
once before gone through that operation. 

It was much the same with his collar and neck-tie, 
which he took off and put on three times in succession, 
before he came to his senses enough to know what he 
started to do. At last his head landed upon the pillow and 
it was a relief to close his strained eyelids, and experience 
the bliss of being alone. 

Yet he was not alone ! He had the company of two 
charmers traveling through his brain in reckless confusion. 
First, Helen turned her proud head toward him and 
demanded to be worshiped. Then Pansey sat in a chair 
in the front hall, with a cumbersome box beside her, and 
stared at him with her luminous, pathetic eyes, and her 
sweet voice sounded in his ears : ** I am only the dress- 
maker’s errand girl, and I have brought home the young 
lady’s dress, sir !” 

His brain seemed on fire, and he tossed from side to 
side like a restless fever patient, until at length he fell 


A 8TEUGGLE TO BE HONORABLE. 


207 


asleep. Then Pansey came and put her small white hand 
upon his throbbing temples, and the soft and magnetic 
touch quieted him into a profound slumber and ho 
wandered into the green pastures of happy dreamland. 
Helen had vanished now, and Pansey took hold of his hand 
while they went together into a beautiful garden of roses 
and pansies, and sat together upon a sofa made of violets, 
while the fragrance filled his senses with delight. Suddenly 
they looked a few paces ahead of them, beside a clump of 
laurels, and saw Helen lying upon a couch of the blos- 
soms, and beckoning them to come to her. They went 
and stood beside her. She was pale, and her eyes had a 
glassy look. She raised herself from the couch and took 
off her engagement ring, and put it on Pansey’s finger, 
saying : There, poor little Pansey, take it and Jasper, 

and be hai)py !” Then she turned her face from them, 
drew a deep, heavy breath and expired. 

This dream had now turned into a nightmare, and ho 
tried to shriek, but no sound escaped his lips. He struggled 
once more, and relief came by awakening. But he carried 
the impression of that dream for years after. He was so 
thoroughly impressed with its reality, that he remembered 
distinctly every situation and every word spoken by each, 
and it was a long time after he awoke before he could 
pursuade himself that it was not a reality. He arose and 
looked out of the window. 

The snow was falling fast, and the gaslight dickered in 
the fitful gusts of wind that at times nearly extinguished 
it. The balcony in front of the bay window was covered 
with several inches of snow, and he saw something that 
looked like the shadow of a man, standing inside the rail- 
ing, in a listening attitude, as if he had heard some sound 
from within. 

He hastily put on his pantaloons and dressing-gown, 
thrust his feet in his toilet slippers, and crept downstairs, 


208 


A STRUGGLE TO BE HONORABLE. 


stealing softly into the parlor. He stepped to the bay 
window, drew aside the heavy curtain drapery, and peered 
out upon the snow covered balcony. He then saw the 
substance, instead of the shadow which he had seen upstairs. 
The object was a tall, stout man, crouching close to the win- 
dow. He stood so that the flickering gaslight fell upon his 
fat, burly looking face, and Jasper could see that he held 
something in his hand ; but whether it was a revolver or 
some tool with which to effect an entrance, he could not tell. 
When Jasper’s face appeared so near him at the window, 
he started back, screening his face with his hands. 

As Major Dunn was in Europe, Jasper was the only man 
in the house except the servants, and he was utterly de- 
fenseless ; so he considered discretion the better part of 
valor, and did not make any attempt to combat the man 
single-handed. The robber was not desperate enough to 
attempt opening the window on Jasper, as, of course, he 
could not know but his enemy was well armed. 

The young man soon collected his scattered senses, 
suflBcient to think of calling the police,, and he turned and 
fled through the folding doors into the back parlor, from 
thence to the side hallway, and out into the street — for 
theirs was a corner house. He plunged through the snow- 
drifts in his toilet slippers, and hastened immediately to 
the nearest police station, as he very well knew that an 
officer could never be found at night upon the streets when 
he was wanted. 

He rushed breathlessly into the station-house, made 
known his business, and was soon returning homeward with 
two stout officers. 

They turned the corner, and crept up the front steps, as 
this was the only way they could reach the balcony. He 
was still there, and at work with some tool upon the win- 
dow casing; but his practiced ear caught the sound of 
their approaching footsteps. He turned with a quick 


THE MISSING KEYS. 


209 


movement, and seeing what he had to contend against, 
sprang, with a desperate leap, over the railing, and plunged 
into the street. Picking himself up as quickly as a cat, he 
leaped on through the snow-drifts, and was out of sight be- 
fore the officers had reached the street again. 

After Jasper had requested the men to keep watch of 
the house the remainder of the night, he crept back up 
stairs to his room, with his socks and slippers filled with 
snow, and his breathing organs very much out of repair. 

Mrs. Dunn and Helen had slept through it all, for 
Jasper had been very careful lest they should awake; since 
the shock would be terrible to them both, if they knew the 
truth. 

Jasper felt certain that he should recognize this burglar 
if ever he saw him again, as he was not one whose face or 
figure would easily be forgotten. But no clue or trace of 
him was found until nearly a year later, when he was identi- 
fied in the prisoners dock at a court of justice. ' 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE MISSING KEYS. 

A month has elapsed since last we looked in upon Guy 
Rumford at the banking-house, and it is the last day of the 
old year, and the last half of the day. While our hero was 
busy at his books, absorbed in the figure columns before 
him, the office door opened, and Mr. Fairweather entered. 
As he approached Guy^s desk his attention was arrested by 
an odd and antiquated key which laid upon the desk beside 
the ledger. 


210 


THE MISSING KEYS. 


** This is a peculiar looking key, Mr. Rumford. Does 
it belong here 

Oh, no, sir ! I supposed that was in my pocket upon 
the ring with my other keys. It belongs to an old-fashioned 
chest of drawers, once the property of my grandmother 
Hurlbert. When my grand aunt came to New York to take 
me away to Massachusetts at the time my parents died, and 
I was ten years of age, she took this relic of family identity 
away with her. It contains some old laces and other trifles 
possessed by my great-grandmother in her younger days. 
This chest has a counterpart, or companion piece some- 
where, probably in the present earhs house in England. 
The one in my possession was presented my grandmother, 
from Lady Helen Rumford, her mother. The fac-similo 
was given at the same time to her other daughter, who 
died before grandmother’s marriage and flight to this 
country. Through the assistance of her maid, and the old 
butler, who were in grandmother’s confidence, the treasure 
was secured, and secreted in the deer park belonging to the 
estate. The day before the ship left for America it was 
removed from its hiding place, and put on board after 
midnight, and so found its way to New York with the 
fleeing pair.” 

Quite a history, truly. This antique chest of drawers 
may perhaps prove an important clue to your lost family 
name and estates. Sometime I hope you will be placed in 
your lawful position.” 

“I might have some hopes of this, sir, if the noble blood 
had been perpetuated on the male side of our family ; but 
in case there should be no desccndents from the eaiTs sons, 
the title becomes extinct, and I think the estates would be 
claimed by the English government. American descendents 
the grandchildren of a disinherited daughter, would scarcely 
bo considered heirs by right, even of estates.” 


THE MISSING KEYS. 


211 


Had your great-grandfather any brothers living at the 
time of his daughter's elopement, that you know of ?” 

“ He had a younger brother, who was dissipated, and ran 
away to the Continent in disgrace, shortly' after the earl suc- 
ceeded to the title. At the time of grandmother’s elope- 
ment, the earl had one son living, who was the youngest of 
the family. That is all I know regarding my ancestry, 
which is but little better than knowing nothing at all,” and 
as Guy ceased speaking he drew a bunch of keys from his 
pocket to slip this one upon the ring. But to his astonish- 
ment two of the banking-house keys were missing. 

He stepped back from his desk and looked panic stricken. 
His employer saw that something was evidently wrong, 
and he turned a questioning glance toward the young man. 

‘^My banking-house keys are gone, sir.” 

“ Probably you have mislaid them. Have you no 
recollection of removing them from the ring ?” 

“No, sir ; but I laid the bunch down when I came in 
early this morning, and was called into the next office by 
Mr. Montrose. Ho wanted some information about tho 
date of a bill that went through our hands first. When I 
came back I noticed the keys, and picking them up with- 
out looking at them, put the bunch in my pocket, and I 
had not even noticed that the chest key was on my desk 
until you called my attention to it, just now. I left some 
keys at a locksmith’s near here, which my aunt wished to 
have duplicated, but I do not think it possible that I could 
have taken off any of my other keys with them, when at 
this shop. But if such a thing were possible, I shall most 
likely find them to-night, when I go for the duplicated 
keys. But I necessarily feel very uneasy, not to know for 
a certainty what has become of them. This locksmith has 
a peculiar sign, which attracted my attention the first day 
I came to the banking-house to business. Wo pass it on 


212 


THE MISSING KEYS. 


our way to the restaurant for lunch. The sign reads : 
'John Davy, artist locksmith.^ 

Search was made all around the little office now, but no 
keys could be found, and the case was given up as hope- 
less. 

“I do not wish Mr. Dunn to know that you have lost 
the keys,^^ spoke Mr. Fairweather. " He is a peculiar 
man, and inclined to be suspicious of those he had no voice 
in employing. He would most likely say you were careless 
and negligent of your duties in so responsible a position as 
this, and perhaps make it so unpleasant for you, that you 
would rather leave than be subject to his cutting remarks 
and constant watching. I will loan you my keys for the 
present, and if you do not find yours soon, the best way for 
all concerned, will be to have duplicates made by these.” 

It was now time to close the ledgers and leave the office, 
as it was the last day of the Old Year, and four o’clock, 
at which hour the bank was always closed the night before 
a holiday. 

The other clerks had already gone, and Guy and his 
employer were left alone. He closed his books and put 
them away, and commenced to make preparations to leave ; 
but Mr. Fairweather seemed inclined to linger and talk 
with the young man. He had an important society event 
to speak about, and had always looked upon this handsome 
fellow as an equal. 

"I suppose, Mr. Rumford, you have heard about the 
Vandewater reception, which is to be given on the tenth 
of next month, and that the Earl of Rumford is to be 
there ?” 

" I do remember of reading the announcement in some 
society journal, although I seldom take much interest in 
society matters. They are far beyond the reach of humble 
and struggling young clerks.” 


THE MISSING KEYS. 


213 


My especial errand in here now was to invite you to go 
with my daughter and me., on our invitations. I want you 
should have the privilege of seeing this much lionized earl, 
to whom you are related.” 

“ You are very kind, sir, to invite me ; and I hope you 
will not think me ungrateful if I feel obliged to decline the 
honor. I have not the requisite dress suit, to speak very 
plainly about my circumstances ; and I fear I should appear 
very much out of place in the midst of so much grandeur 
and elegance,” and Guy^s lips quivered with^ome hidden 
emotion which stirred his proud and sensitive nature, and 
made him wish himself either a nobleman or a contented 
plebian. As it was, he felt that he had no right in the 
society of the only class he cared to mingle. His pride 
and poverty were at constant logger-heads, and be often 
chafed under the yoke. 

At this juncture two young ladies entered the office 
together, and approached Guy’s desk. Mr. Fairweather’s 
back was toward them, but it was evident the object of their 
visit was to see him. Guy called his employer’s attention 
to the unexpected visitors. They were Helen Dunn and 
Florence Fairweather. This was the first time that Guy 
had ever seen these young ladies, and although altogether 
opposed to making the acquaintance of those he considered 
above him in the social scale, his heart rose in his throat as 
he thought of the possibility of an introduction to these 
handsome young creatures. They were both beautiful in 
their different types. Florence possessed the charm and 
attractiveness of rare expression, and Helen the exquisite 
chiselling of features which renders a Greek statue so 
faultless. It could scarcely be called love at first sight on 
Guy’s part toward Miss Fairweather ; but true it was, when 
he for the first time looked into the depths of her wonder- 
ful eyes, he recollected the princess of his singular dream on 


214 


THE MISSING KEYS. 


the old cottage veranda, when he fell asleep poring over 
his algebra, and there seemed to be a sudden new interest 
in life, although he inwardly trembled that he should allow 
himself to indulge this wild thought. It seemed to him 
but the reproduction of the Komance of a Poor Young 
Man,’’ on life’s real stage. 

And the banker’s daughter, what of her,” ask you? 
Her side of the romance will better be understood by watch- 
ing her while she goes through the ceremony expected at an 
introduction. A vivid blush overspreads her face, as her 
father presents her to “ Mr. Rumford,” and her eyelids 
droop beneath his earnest and all unconsciously ardent gaze 
into the depths of her hazel eyes. 

Her helpless confusion did not escape the practiced eye 
of Miss Dunn, who on being introduced, bowed graciously, 
without change of color or a shade of embarrassment, and 
mentioned having heard Jasper speak of him at home. 

Florence had driven down in their carriage for her 
father, and just as she left the house, Helen came to call 
upon her. She therefore invited her to drive with her to 
the bjinking-house. 

Guy expressed his pleasure at having met the young 
ladies, with the well-bred grace of a true gentleman, and 
bidding them adieu, started for the artist locksmiths. 

The other three soon followed, and entered the carriage 
together. They drove Helen home, but Florence, who 
was expected to entertain her visitor by Mr. Fairweather, 
seemed absorbed in reverie. 

Papa, you spoke this morning of inviting Mr. Rum- 
ford to attend the Vandewater reception ; but I thought, 
perhaps, with all your business perplexities, you might 
possibly have forgotten it.” 

No, daughter ; 1 did not forget to invito him. Wo 


THE MISSING KEYS. 


216 


were discussing the matter when you two young ladies 
entered the office.” 

**And has he accepted, papa?” 

He thinks he cannot attend, Florence. He has not 
been in society any as yet, and he has not suitable dress, or 
even the confidence to appear in fashionable society.” 

‘^He will be all the better for that, papa.” 

All the better at a swell reception without a dress 
suit, child?” 

*^No, no, papal I mean all the better for not being a 
society young man. They are the most insipid creatures 
in existence, and not worth the money they spend in 
pomade for their moustaches. Don’t you think he could be 
persuaded to change his mind, papa?” 

‘^Ido not see why you should be so anxious for him 
to go. Ho is only a poor clerk, at best, and I dare say 
would not know what to do with his hands at such an af- 
fair as the Vanderwater reception!” spoke Miss Dunn, 
with a semblance of being shocked at her friend’s bad 
taste, as she chose to call it. 

I do not think he will need any instructions about 
holding his hands ; but if he should, there will be plenty of 
young ladies who would be glad of an opportunity to teach 
him!” retorted the spirited girl. But just as she had ended 
her defensive speech, they reached Major Dunn’s door, and 
here wo will leave them for the present. 


216 


HOW THE OLD TEAR ENDED 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

HOW THE OLD TEAR ENDED. 

On leaving the banking-house, Guy proceeded at once to 
the artist locksmiths for the duplicate keys. He had also 
some faint hope of finding the missing ones mentioned in 
the preceding chapter. But he was destined to disap- 
pointment in this, for they had not been seen by the lock- 
smith. He took the keys handed him by the man, and 
after asking him to give a thorough search over his shop, 
started on his homeward walk, for he felt the need of fresh 
air and exercise ; and he preferred it to hanging on the 
outside of crowded street cars and stages. 

He reached home, with glowing cheeks and sparkling 
eyes, and a keen relish for old Margaret’s well cooked 
dinner, just as the little clock on the mantel in his aunt’s 
dining-room was striking six. He brought in a whiff of 
cold, fresh air, and went with manly strides over to his 
aunt, and kissed her withered cheek, before removing his 
overcoat. 

You look rosy and happy the last night of the old 
year, my boy !” spoke his aunt, returning the caress in a 
motherly fashion, and patting his handsome face play- 
fully. 

Yes, Auntie ; I feel quite happy to-night. I can but 
contrast it with last year, and the year before. But where 
is Pansey ?” 

This young girl had become one of the chief charms of 
his home life now. 


HOW THE OLD YEAE ENDED. 


217 


Oh, she has gone out with Miss Forbes. There was 
a great deal of mystery in their movements, and consider- 
able whispering between them. I surmised that they 
might be out shopping for New Year’s presents. Miss 
Forbes is full of the coming reception at Vanderwaters. 
She says it is a great shame that you cannot have the 
required dress suit for that affair. She thinks the Earl of 
Eumford ought to meet his only male relative in America. 
But I told her there was no possibility of your having an 
invitation, even if you had the required dress suit.” 

Well, Auntie, I have already received an invitation 
from Mr. Fairweather; but, of course, I declined the 
honor. I very well knew that it would not be possible. 
And even if it were, I should have very little enjoyment in 
society that did not include you and Pansey. It would 
seem like selfishness for me to leave you two at home alone, 
while I mingled in society far above our station in life.” 

Society looks with different eyes upon rising young 
men with a college education, Guy, than upon dressmakers 
and errand girls. Of course it is but natural they 
should.” 

“ My blood is no better than yours. Auntie ; and I see 
no reason why I should be treated better socially.” 

Yes it is, Guy. The noble blood is on your grand- 
mother’s side, and not on the Hurlberts.” 

“ Ah, I had quite forgotten the noble blood ; but I do 
not chose to esteem it any better than my grandfathers.” 

But here their conversation was broken off by the 
entrance of Miss Forbes and Pansey, just returned from 
holiday shopping. 

This room is as hot as Nebuchadnezzar’s fiery furnace, 

I declare to goodness !” was the spinster’s first salutation, 
dropping into the nearest chair, 

You are excited wjth sihopping and walking, Miss 
10 


218 


now THE OLD YEAR ENAED. 


Forbes ; I don’t think the thermometer is above seventy,” 
replied the dressmaker, passing her visitor a fan, and re- 
minding her that her sealskin sack was buttoned tightly uj) 
to her chin. 

Yes, I know it is buttoned up ; but I can’t stop half a 
minute, and I don’t want the fuss of fastenin’ it up again 
so soon.” 

Can you not stay to dinner with us ?” asked Guy and 
his aunt simultaneously. 

** No, I don’t see how I can. I’ve got so much to do to- 
night, I shouldn’t have come back at all, only I wanted to 
tell Mr. Guy that I heard through the collector’s young lady 
that he was goin’ to have an invitation to Vandewater’s 
reception, because he told her he heard Mr. Fairwcather 
tell Major Dunn that he was goin’ to ask young Rumford 
to go with them. And I want him to go by all means. I 
think I’ve fixed it so he can go ; but I won’t tell you how 
jest now. But if you don’t go, I shall feel dreadfully disap- 
pointed, that’s all. Now I mtcst go ! Good-night, every- 
body,” and the eccentric spinster flounced out with her 
habitual bluster. 

Pansey had gone upstairs to remove her coat and hat, 
and she lingered a few minutes to look at her smiling 
reflection in the small glass which hung over her washstand. 
For some reason, scarcely definable to herself, she had 
taken more interest in her looks and appearance since she 
had met Jasper Montrose ; although she tried not to harbor 
such a feeling, which she secretly felt to be wicked vanity. 
She turned away with a little sigh, descended the stairs, and 
entered the dining-room. 

Margaret cleared up the worjiroom while they were at 
dinner ; as all the reception costumes for New Year’s day 
bad been finished, and Pansey was to take the last one 
home directly after she had finished dinner. This one was 


/ 


HOW THE OLD TEAR ENDED. 219 

for Helen Dunn, and a dainty confection of electric blue 
shaded plush, combined with trimmings of amber satin. It 
was one of the dressmaker^s finest conceptions, and could not 
fail to give satisfaction, she was positive. Pansey arose from 
the table and put on her coat and hat, while Mrs. Withington 
packed the costume smoothly in a box, and handing it to her 
with her car-fare, asked her if she would be warm enough 
in her little sack, as the weather was stinging cold. 

Pansey assured her auntie ” that she was ^^as warm 
as toast,” and started on her way with a light heart, and 
hurried to catch a car, as she was very anxious to bo back 
in time for the arrival of the purchases she had assisted 
Miss Forbes to make that afternoon. 

On her arrival at Major Dunnes, the door was opened 
by George, who, since her first visit there, had thought best 
to be more polite to the errand girl. She had delivered the 
package and started down the stairs again, when suddenly 
Jasper appeared in the hallway. He had somehow learned 
that Pansey was in the house, and when Helen’s door 
closed and he heard her nimble footsteps in the marble hall 
below, determined to tell her that he was sorry to have 
offended her in sending the bunch of pansies. She began 
to explain that Guy had told her she must return them to 
the sender, when Helen made her appearance in the hall, 
and found them conversing together. This, added to the 
fact of having discovered the girl’s portrait among Jasper’s 
sketches, enraged the young lady beyond endurance, and 
she called to him in angry, trembling tones, saying : 

“ This then is the way you hold stolen interviews with 
errand girls. I think it is about time Mrs. Withington 
was informed of the impertinence of this brazen young 
girl, and her boldness in the house of her customers.” 

Jasper turned and went to his room after Pansey had 
gone, and the house seemed hollow and desolate to him. 


220 


HOW THE OLD TEAR ENDED. 


The truth had commenced to dawn upon him, that nearly 
all his dreams of future happiness centered upon this poor 
and unknown errand girl. Still he was piqued and trou- 
bled because Helen had found him talking to her, but 
perhaps more on account of the abuse heaped upon Pansey 
by his betrothed, than fear of anger to himself. 

A tempest of emotions and passions swept over him, 
while he sat, with his brow firmly knit, gazing into 
vacancy, and bewailing his ill-fated engagement to Helen 
Dunn. 

Meanwhile Pansey was wending her way homeward, 
mortified and disgraced forever, as she thought, in the eyes 
of the Dunn family, and perhaps even Jasper himself ; 
which latter trial would be the hardest of all to bear, for a 
reason she did not then understand. 

An hour later, Mrs. Withington, Guy and Pansey sat 
together in the workroom talking over the poor girPs bit- 
ter experience in the Dunn mansion. Neither of the two 
listeners to her tale of trouble could think that the young 
girl was to blame. 

But Mrs. Dunn and Helen were among her best cus- 
tomers, and so Mrs. Withington cautioned Pansey to avoid 
all communication with the impulsive and imprudent 
Jasper. Guy did not doubt the young maiPs good inten- 
tions in this case ; but he could see that Miss Dunn had 
some cause for grievance, and that Jasper was very far 
from being diplomatic in holding a clandestine conversation 
with the dressmaker’s errand girl in the hallway of his own 
house and that of his betrothed. 

It was near nine o’clock before the three had ended this 
unpleasant conversation, and just then there came a loud 
ring at the door bell. Pansey considered Margaret’s rheu- 
matic knee joints, which caused her to groan every time 
she ascended the stairs, and went to the door herself to 


HOW THE OLD YEAR ENDED. 


221 


answer the summons. She soon returned bringing a pon- 
derous box in her small hands. 

Has one of the costumes come back, I wonder ?” asked 
the dressmaker, nervously. Perhaps there is some 
dissatisfaction with Miss Dunnes,” she continued, excitedlj’’^ 
adjusting her glasses to see if she recognized the box. 

“ Do not be alarmed. Auntie ; it is not from any of 
your customers. It is for Mr. Guy,” and she carried it 
over to him and dropped it at his feet, with a mysterious 
look in her round, hazel eyes. 

What can it be, I wonder ?” remarked . the young 
man in astonishment. 

“ Wouldn’t it be a good idea to open it, and see ?” sug- 
gested Pansey. 

He did ; and when the last piece of tissue paper was 
removed, he saw a stylish new dress suit, fresh from the 
hands of the tailor. 

He seemed to have lost power of speech, and stood and 
stared at it as if it was some curiosity which he had paid 
to look upon. 

Why don’t you say something, Mr. Guy ? Don’t you 
think that is a nice holiday present ?” spoke Pansey, danc- 
ing around him as if she had a share in this valuable gift. 

He took them out slowly and cautiously, as if he feared 
they might fall in pieces and disappear, — as Cinderella’s 
fine clothing did at the ball after midnight, — and inspecting 
them carefully, said : 

These were made to order, I see ! How did Miss 
Forbes — for no one else would have thought of such a 
magnificent New Year’s gift — get my measure ?” 

I got it for her, Mr. Guy, several days ago, from your 
Sunday suit, when you were down-town at business,” 
answered Pansey, with a nervous little laugh. 

This is what I call a special providence, Guy. Now 


222 


PREPAKINO FOR THE RECEPTION. 


you can go to the Vanderwatcr reception/’ remarked Mrs. 
Withington, wiping her glasses and critically examining 
the stitches in the new dress suit. 

They all remained up until after midnight and waited 
to hear the chimes ring out the advent of the New Year. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

PREPARING FOR THE RECEPTION. . 

It is the tenth of January. The hands of the dress- 
maker’s clock point to the hour of five. No word is 
spoken, nor a moment wasted by the four toilers in that 
littered-up room. Pansey is wrestling with basting 
threads ; Mrs. Withington is draping a skirt over the 
shapely form of ‘‘ dummy ; ” one of the seamstresses is 
manipulating the sewing machine, and the other is plaiting 
flounces. There is no time for words, except to ask need- 
ful questions about the work. 

Neither Pansey or the dressmaker stopped to take a 
mouthful of lunch. They are straining every nerve to fin- 
ish Helen Dunn’s costume, designed for the reception this 
evening. She had not made up her mind what to have in 
way of materials until two or three days previous, and 
wlien the final decision was given her dressmaker, there 
was scarcely time to complete the dainty confection in sea- 
son for the long anticipated ball. Dinner had been delayed 
at Mrs. Withington’s request until seven o’clock, and all 
the occupants of that shop were doing their best to finish 
the important costume. So, kind reader, we will not dis- 
turb them just now in their herculiau task. 


PREPARING FOR THE RECEPTION. 


223 


Guy has, after a great deal of coaxing on the part of his 
Aunt, Miss Forbes and Pansey, consented to attend the 
reception. He received a charming little perfumed note 
from Florence Fairweather, which purported to have been 
sent by the request of her father, urging him to accompany 
their family. This was more than he could withstand. 
But he felt in his great, generous heart, as if he were selfish 
and ungrateful to go into the company of Major Dunn’s 
family, and leave his hard worked aunt and Pansey at home, 
80 tired and worn out with their task of preparing Helen 
Dunn to shine resplendant on that occasion. 

He had said as much to both of them, but they had 
only laughed at him for such “ foolish notions,” as they 
termed his delicate respect for their feelings. Pansey had 
said that he was the only proper one of them to attend such 
a gathering of quality and nobility. Was he not related 
by blood to the very earl who was to be the ne plus ultra 
of the whole affair. Could an unknown and humble 
errand girl expect to attend such a gathering ? Absurd ! 
Impossible !” she said. And Mrs. Withington had told 
him it was great folly to think it selfish to leave her 
behind. She “ could not enjoy such an affair ; and then, 
she would be too tired to go, if she had fifty invitations. 
Why need he make himself miserable on her account ?” 
He had given way, after all these assurances of not mind- 
ing it in the least,” from Pansey and his aunt. 

But down deep in the young girl’s heart, she had a 
secret longing to see the brilliancy of the whole affair ; and 
then Jasper would be there beside the proud Helen! She 
fancied it would be happiness for her just to see him, and 
have him turn his eyes toward her, with the strange light 
in them that they had shown on the first night he saw her 
sitting constrained and frightened in the spacious hallway 
at his house. She felt desolate and forsaken, too, in the 


224 : 


PEEPARING FOR THE RECEPTION. 


depths of her heart. The terrible reproof she received 
from Helen Dann, and the withering words of condemna- 
tion she uttered, because she (Pansey) answered Jasper’s 
questions in the most innocent manner, was so cutting to 
her sensitive nature. And then poor Jasper had been 
dreadfully reprimanded for talking to her in the hallway ! 
She did not know which were the harder, to be censured 
herself, or hear him charged with the guilt of infidelity by 
his betrothed. 

♦ ♦ ♦ * * 

It was fifteen minutes before seven when the last stitch 
of basting had been taken out of Helen Dunn’s dress by 
the careful and expert fingers of Pansey. Mrs. Withington 
packed it smoothly in the box, ready for the errand girl to 
take home; and she was justly proud of the stylishly made 
costume. She wished now, like Pansey, that she could see 
her customer in this handiwork of her own conception. 
She could imagine something what it would be to look 
upon thousands of such brilliant toilets, and their splendor 
enhanced with all manner of precious gems. “ What a 
pity,” she thought, as she was folding this recherche toilet, 
‘Hhat there were none of the earl’s family — that is, his ac- 
knowledged family — ladies ! How the flash of old family 
jewels would enhance the brilliancy of the scene, could a 
wife or daughter accompany the earl on this grand occa- 
sion !” Kind soul ! She did not envy them ! Not she ! It 
was enough for her that she could design such elegant out- 
fits for those who could participate in these grand scenes, 
and besides, have something from the proceeds of her toil 
to assist and relieve the wants of the destitute around her. 
She did more actual good to her suffering fellow-beings in 
one year, than these very Vauderwaters had done in all 
their lives. 

Guy came home later than usual that evening, as he had 


PREPAKING FOR THE RECEPTION. 


225 


.been around making sundry necessary purchases for his 
‘Erst debut into society. His dress suit was perfection 
itself, and when G-uy was inside of it, ho would have done 
the English earldom more credit than its present incumbent 
could do, although Guy^s hard work and poverty had been 
offset, on his part, by a life of ease and luxury in the most 
refined circles of England. 

Dinner was served at seven, and then Pansey was to start 
to deliver the carefully protected costume to Helen Dunn. 
She had not been there since the night of receiving that 
severe upbraiding from the proud young lady. She did not 
think how unpleasant, and even hard a task she had before 
her, until she was putting on her things to go. They had 
been so busy all day, that she thought of but little else than 
the fear lest the dress would not be finished in season. Now 
the unhappy and humiliated manner in which she left 
Major Dunn’s house on the evening of the last day of the 
old year, rushed upon her with almost overpowering force. 
She went down stairs with the tears of mortification still 
bedewing her hazel eyes. Guy saw those crystal drops, and 
he asked, in an anxious voice, the cause of them, going 
over to her and stroking her glossy auburn hair. 

Oh, Mr. Guy ! I am almost afraid to go up with the 
young lady’s dress ! Do you think she will scold me again 
to-night ? And then, what if I should see the young gen- 
tleman she’s engaged to. If he speaks to me, must I answer 
him, Mr. Guy ?” 

Certainly ; my dear little Pansey ! You should always 
answer when you are spoken to civilly, and I am sure Jasper 
would speak in no other way to you. Now be a brave girl, 
and do your duty without fear. No harm can come to you, 
I am sure, and when you come back I will give you the little 
offering I have brought home to you, for behaving so like 
a noble little lady when I made you send back the bouquet 
10 * 


226 


PREPAKINO FOB THE RECEPTION. 


that night. You will want to see me when I am dressed in 
that new suit that you and Miss Forbes had so many mys- 
terious consultations over. So you must hurry home again 
as soon as you can, before I go up to Mr. Fairweather’s. As 
I am to accompany them to the reception, I shall have to 
start earlier than I should to go directly to the Vander- 
water’s residence.^’ 

Pansey dried her tears, and after giving Guy a little 
flat pasteboard box, neatly wrapped in white paper, she 
took her firmly tied package, and with a kiss and words 
of encouragement from the dressmaker, started on her 
mission. 

She managed to get the precious box upon the platform 
of the car, but the inside was so crowded that it was 
impossible to get in there with anything so large and cum- 
bersome. She feared something might happen to the 
important costume if she left it outside and went into the 
car herself, and so she asked the conductor if she might 
stand on the platform and hold it in her arms. 

But there was a crowd outside as well ; and the con- 
ductor said it would not be safe, as she would be in danger 
of getting knocked over. Here she felt the touch of a 
gentleman’s gloved hand upon her arm, and looking up, 
saw Jasper struggling toward her through the uncomfort- 
able crowd. 

Let me take the parcel, Pansey ; you will be thrown 
from the car if you stand here in this crowd. Go inside, 
child ; I will see that no harm comes to the box,” and with 
these words of command, he took the burden from the 
trembling Panse/s arms, and assisted her inside. The 
young girl was now shaking with fright. The very thing 
that she most dreaded in taking up the costume had 
happened. She would now have to go to the house in 
company with the young man she hoped to avoid seeing 


PEEPARINQ FOR THE RECEPTION, 


227 


that night, or tell him that he must leave her in the street 
after they got out of the car, and she must wait until he 
had gotten in the house and out of her sight, before it 
would answer for her to enter. 

She was pushed and jostled from side to side by the 
helpless mass of passengers, who had paid their five cents 
fare for the privilege of being crushed into a jelly. 

It being dark, and the crowd was so dense, Pansey had 
to depend altogether on Jasper to tell her when they had 
reached their street corner. The time seemed terribly 
long to the girl, and she held on with a convulsive grasp 
to the leather strap, which was just barely within her 
reach. 

When at last they came to the end of their car ride, 
the young man pushed his way to Pansey, and gently 
taking her by the arm, led her out, and almost lifted her 
from the car. Jasper had never seen her look prettier 
or more charming than she did to-night, he thought, 
and without giving the least heed to consequences, he 
walked toward their house with her, carrying her ponder- 
ous box. She made several attempts to speak — to protest 
against such reckless behavior — but for a time her power of 
speech appeared to be cut off altogether. At length she 
succeeded in calling to him with a most pitiful appeal to 
** stop a moment.” 

He halted, and turned to look upon her frightened 
face, which was clearly defined in the bright light from the 
corner gas jet. 

“ What is it, little Pansey ? Why do you look so dis- 
tressed ?” 

** Oh, Mr. Jasper, please stop and give me the box ! I 
must not go to the house with you I Miss Dunn will be so 
dreadfully displeased with both of us, and I am afraid she 
will never let Auntie do another dress if I have to bring 


228 


PREPAEING FOR THE RECEPTION. 


them home to her. Oh, please do let mo take the box, 
Mr. Jasper !” and her eyes were swimming with tears, and 
wore a startled, hunted look, like a fawns, when the 
sportsman is in swift 23ursuit. 

The tears of a beautiful and helpless young girl would 
move Jasper to almost any rash act of gallantly at any 
time ; but to see the one being for whom he would lay 
down his life, if necessary, to save, in such distress and 
agony, with the fear she felt for his fiauc6, was almost 
intolerable. It showed him his heart more plainly than 
ever before. If Helen is such a terror as that to an 
innocent and inoffensive girl like Pansey, why should I 
be tied to her for life, and make that life a burden and 
failure ?” he asked himself, as he stood there irresolute as 
to what course to pursue, and looking into the young girl’s 
pleading eyes, with a hungry longing to clasp her to his 
heart, and hold her there always. 

Pansey, dear, you need not be afraid of Miss Helen, I 
will protect you in the face of anybody and everybody, if it 
is necessary. No harm shall come to you when I am near 
to shield you from it.” 

The earnest pathos which he put into those hurried 
words, frightened Pansey even more than the thought of a 
scolding from the imperious Helen. He had called her 
Pansey, dear.” How dreadful it was for an engaged 
3 'oung man to do that ! What was she to do, but follow 
him and that fatal box on to destruction ; as she thought 
going into the presence of Helen with Jasper for her com- 
panion and burden-bearer, certainly would be her destruc- 
tion, morally, in the eyes of all the Dunn household. She 
had come to one of the hardest places in her hard life, 
poor girl ! and there was no one near to advise her what to 
do. She pressed her hand tightly upon her throbbing 


PRKPAKINO FOR THE RECEPTION. 


229 


brow, and tried to think. Her brain was so confused that 
she could not frame an intelligent thought. 

Mr. Jasper ! please stop I” she again called in despe- 
ration. “ I cannot go in there with you ! Oh, if you only 
knew the dreadful consequences, you would not dare to do 
it yourself V’ 

They had come to the steps now, and the trembling 
girl, plead and prayed and entreated that he would give 
her the box, and let her wait until such time as no suspi- 
cions would be aroused before going in. 

But Jasper somehow felt that to do this would but be 
to make a sneak and coward of himself, and he was deter- 
mined to brave it out. How little we know what the 
result of our actions will be ! Perhaps what he did was 
best ; and perhaps not. Certain it is, that it brought 
speedy and terrible trouble upon the young girl ; and to 
himself, too, for that matter. For as things had turned, 
her trouble was doubly his own. 

He turned quickly around at the sound of her pleading, 
trembling voice, and drank in another draught from her 
liquid eyes, which seemed to him like nectar fit for gods to 
sip ; and then he placed his hand upon her trembling 
arm, and bade her dry her tears, and be a brave, good girl. 

No harm shall come to you. If any one has to suffer for 
this act, it shall be myself, and not you, poor little Pansey. 
Take your handkerchief, dear, and dry your tears, and then 
follow me into the house. I will take the dress up to Miss 
Helen myself, and you need not go to her room if you do 
not wish to, and that will save all talk and trouble.” 

But he was too late already to save that ; for just as he 
ceased speaking, Mrs. Dunn and Helen came up the steps, 
and the latter had heard his last words. They had been 
out to select the flowers for the young lady^s garniture that 


230 


PREPARING FOR THE RECEPTION. 


evening, and ordered them sent around time to have 
them looped amid her drapery. 

He turned carelessly and boldly around to his mother 
and Helen, and said : 

I happened to meet little Pansey in the car coming 
up, and I have brought her box, that I believe contains 
your dress, Helen, from the car, which was so crowded 
she could not get inside with it." 

Pansey stood like a culprit, not daring to say a word, 
and feeling as if she wished the earth might open and swal- 
low her up out of sight and hearing of everybody. 

‘‘ Why, you poor child I you must be very cold and tired, 
after coming up in those miserable crowded cars, and hav- 
ing to stand all the way,” spoke Mrs. Dunn. 

Don't waste your sympathy on that bold creature, 
mamma ! She doubtless felt repaid by having such chivalric 
attention from this very loyal young gentleman,” and she 
flounced into the house, as the porter opened the door, and 
went upstairs to her room in a towering rage. Neither 
Jasper or his mother paid the slightest attention to this 
gust of temper and cutting sarcasm. Mrs. Dunn went into 
the parlor and Jasper followed her with the box. Pansey 
stood in the hall and waited for them to either dismiss her 
or ask her to take the dress up to Miss Helen's room. 

After Jasper had set the box down, he came back into 
the hall, and asked Pansey if she could stop to come in and 
rest a few moments. But she said she could not possibly. 
He went in the parlor again and whispered something to 
his mother which she did not hear ; then ho came out, and 
said : 

“Come, Pansey, I am going to take you to the car, and 
see if I cannot get you a seat, poor child ! you are all tired 
out, and I fear you will be ill after this shock upon your 
fragile strength.” 


PREPARING FOR THE RECEPTION. 


231 


Mrs. Duiin bade her a kind good-night, and she went 
out with the young man, who, when they had reached the 
steps, put her little hand through the crook of his gallant 
arm, and escorted her to the car, as if she had been a count- 
ess instead of an errand girl. The cars going down town 
were not crowded at that time, and so he found her a seat, 
and after pressing her little hand warmly, aud reassuring 
her that no harm should come to her from this night’s 
adventure, he bade her good-night, and turned homeward 
to prepare for the reception. 

♦ ♦ ♦ * * 

Let us follow Pansey home, and learn, if we can, what 
her thoughts are as she sits crouched in the seat where 
Jasper placed her, as if nailed to it. Her little dimpled 
chin quivers with mortification, and the tears will force 
themselves into her pathetic eyes, in spite of all her efforts 
to keep them back. It is such a sad ending of the long, 
hard day. She had worked on that dress with such in- 
terest and zeal ; going without her lunch uncomplainingly, 
and had been ready to run of errands at every beck and 
call of the dressmaker and the two seamstresses ! She had 
had ears and eyes, hands and feet, for the many calls upon 
them, that long, tiresome day; and this was the end of it 
all ! She began to feel that life was too hard to bear, and 
she longed to get home, out of the sight of strange faces 
around her, and escape the stare of strange eyes, which 
seemed glaring at her tearful face from all sides in the car. 
Finally she felt that she could endure this prying curiosity 
no longer, and she motioned for the conductor to stop the 
car, and let her get out. She plunged from the steps into 
the street, and hurried on, her heart thumping like the 
beating of a drum against her close fitting walking coat. 
It was considerably past' eight when she reached the house, 
aud as she entered with her key the cheerful hallway, a 


232 


PREPARING FOR THE RECEPTION. 


great sense of relief came to her burdened spirits. She 
heard excited talking and laughing in the workroom, and 
among the other voices she recognized Miss Forbes’, assur- 
ing Guy that he ‘Mooked just like Prince Arthur, in that 
dress suit.” She tried to compose herself and conceal all 
traces of excitement and worry from her face and manner ; 
and after she thought she had succeeded in putting on a 
smiling face, she entered the room. 

‘‘Why, Pansey, child! how tired and pale you look! 
I fear you have been over-taxed to-day, poor dear ! You 
have worked so hard all day and went without your lunch, 
too! I will never let you do it again, if I have to disap- 
point my best customer !” and Mrs. Withiugton took the 
weary and disheartened girl in her arms and caressed her 
as she would have an infant. 

This sudden burst of love and sympathy caused the 
wronged and misjudged Pansey to break down ignomini- 
ously, and she sobbed out her heart-breaking experience 
with Helen Dunn that evening, upon the good woman’s 
bosom. Guy came and stood over her, his great pitying 
eyes moist with manly tears, trying to console her pas- 
sionate grief; and Miss Forbes stood by, as if struck dumb, 
respectfully keeping her lips closed, and wondering at such 
an exhibition of emotion in the errand girl. 

But it was time for Guy to go now, and so he must 
leave his dear little friend in tears, for it seemed as if a 
reservoir of saline crystals had given way in the girl’s head, 
and must have vent. But first he went to his room, and 
brought the little gift he had purchased for Pansey that 
evening, and which he promised her she should have when 
she returned from Major Dunn’s. It was a bunch of 
exquisite pansies, and as he handed them to her, she burst 
out afresh, as if some cruel weapon had struck the old 
wound. But she took the lovely blossoms and caressed 


THE VANDERWATER BALL. 


233 


them in her tapering, restless fingers, and thanked him as 
well as she could, through her sobs and tears. Then he 
took out a daintily embroidered handkerchief with the 
name ‘‘ Guy ” wrought in blue silk in one corner, and told 
the young girl it was the most treasured gift he had ever 
received. It was found by him on opening the box 
wrapped in white paper, which Pansey handed him when 
she left the house that night to convey Helen Dunn her 
costume. She had embroidered this name herself for him, 
and had planned to finish it by working on it at night after 
she went to her room, so he could have it for the reception. 
Guy Hurlbert appreciated this thoughtfulness and self- 
sacrificing w'ork from Pansey, for he was as tender as a 
woman in his nature, although a strong, decided and manly 
man. 


CHAPTEE XXX. 

THE VANDERWATER BALL. 

Carriage after carriage rolled up to the Vanderwater 
mansion, and nimble footmen jumped from their boxes, 
handing daintily gloved and slippered ladies to the liveried 
house servants, who conducted them over the carpeted 
sidewalk up the broad steps and to their dressing-room?. 
Every window was ablaze with light. The odor of rare 
exotics filled the warm atmosphere with subtle fragrance. 
The music of a popular orchestra throbbed with grand, 
inspiring pulsations. Mocking-birds, orioles and canaries 
warbled and trilled forth their sweet notes. Eyes sparkled, 
diamonds flashed, fans fluttered, and the rustle of silks and 
satin trains, sweeping over the stairs and through the spa- 


234 


THE VANDERWATER BALL. 


cious hallways, mingled with the general clamor of music, 
song of birds, and the hum of voices. 

Major Dunn’s carriage drives up, and the footman 
opens the door of the drag. The major alights with consid- 
erable bluster, squeezed tightly into a full dress suit, and 
wearing a clerical looking necktie, fastened firmly around 
his puffy throat. Ho steps one side, and waits for kis fam- 
ily to emerge from their wrappings amid the fur robes. 
First comes Mrs. Dunn, clad in long fur cloak, with a light 
worsted hood over her shining puffs of brown hair, and 
takes her place beside her liege lord. Then comes Lady 
Helen, pale and defiant, the footman holding aloft her 
ponderous train, her eyes bright, but as cold as an Arctic 
iceberg. And, last of all, follows Jasper, with a warm 
light in his handsome eyes, kindled by other feminine love- 
liness than that possessed by the proud belle he escorts 
with such well-bred courtesy and gallantry to this grand 
ball. 

Together, this family, with hearts as widely separated as 
the poles, and each thinking their own thoughts, mount 
the stone steps, which the soft Turkish rug has robbed of 
its coldness and hardness, as charity robs the human heart 
of those stern qualities. 

Later came the Fairweathers. But there are only three 
in this carriage. The junior partner of that great bank- 
ing-house is a widower, and has been for the last ten years. 
He hands out Miss Florence to the respectful footman ; 
then he follows, with a calm and cheerful face. He turns 
and waits for Guy, who, with native grace and politeness of 
the lieart, offers Florence his arm ; while her father takes 
the other, and minus the aid of a footman to hold her 
ti-ain, they pass up the steps without ostentation, and enter 
the brilliant interior. Miss Faith weather’s chaperone is to 
meet her there, as she had to matronize another party of 


THE VANDEHWATEK BALL. 


235 


young ladies, who had no one to take them there except 
her, and Florence was well protected by her father. 

The earl was expected to arrive at about eleven o’clock, 
and many were the graceful necks cranned through the 
surging crowd, to watch for his ascent of the hall stairs to 
the special coat-room provided for his earlship and party. 

At last the cathedral clock upon the heavily draped 
mantel in the long parlors tolled the hour of eleven ; and a 
few minutes later the earl’s carriage made its appearance at 
the door. He alighted very much as any man would have 
done — prosaic as the truth may appear recorded ! — and 
after waiting for the ladies and other gentlemen of his 
party, they were ushered in with great pomp and bluster by 
the corps of liveried servants. The ladies eagerly flocked 
to the hallway and covertly scanned each gentleman who 
passed up the stairs. But they all looked much the same, 
muffled to their eyes in heavy overcoats. 

Perhaps it would have been an act of philanthropy on 
the earl’s part to have had his title written on his opera hat 
in gold letters. But the inconsiderate Englishman had 
garbed himself, so far as outside trappings are concerned, 
precisely like American society gentlemen. 

They waited around the doors for his advent among 
them with what semblance of patience they could command. 
At length a tall and handsome gentleman came slowly down 
over the stairs, behind a beautiful young lady arrayed in 
gleaming white satin and pearl beaded lace drapery ; and 
following him, an elderly man, wearing a serene counten- 
ance. 

“There he comes!” “That must be he!” softly 
chorused a score of feminine voices, and every eye was 
turned in admiration upon the handsome gentleman. 
There was a flutter of excitement among the young ladies, 
and an expectant look upon the faces of the dowagers as 


236 


THE VANDERVVATER BALL. 


the three entered the room. The elder gentleman and 
young lady were recognized by the hostess, who, after greet- 
ing them, waited to be presented to the supposed earl. 

“Mrs. Vandewater, our hostess, Mr. Eumford.” 

The lady gave a surprised little shrug of her shoulders, 
Avhich she intended to be very Frenchy, and asked in an 
under tone why he had omitted the title in presenting the 
earl ; for this dowager supposed Guy Hurlbert none other 
than this much talked of lion. Nor did she even know who 
was to accompany him to her house. She had not long been 
accustomed to upper-ten society. A few years previous, the 
Vandewaters were among the common herd of “toilers and 
moilers.” Stocks and bonds, and paying railroad schemes, 
had placed this family in their present social position. 
This unlettered Mrs. Shoddy would not have discerned the 
difference between Mike Malony, grown suddenly rich and 
rigged up in society toggery, from the proudest prince or 
earl in the United Kingdom of Britain. Therefore it is 
no marvel that she mistook Guy Hurlbert for the Earl of 
Eumford. Mr. Fairweather, with an amused smile, cor- 
rected the little social blunder, which correction was passed 
from lip to lip in the circle of ladies waiting to be presented 
to the earl, and a general scattering and scrabbling for the 
hallway, where he would be sure to pass, was the result. 

At length, the real earl was announced, with consider- 
able eclat ; and the flutter and agitation among the ladies 
became epidemic. 

“ IIow perfectly splendid he is says one, catching her 
breath. 

“No one could mistake him for any but an English 
peer !” adds another. 

“ He is so distingue !” puts in a third. 

Perhaps no young lady at this grand reception was more 
cool and self-possessed than Helen Dunn, when, among the 


THE VANDERWATER BALL. 


237 


first, she was presented to his carlship. She made no sign 
that it was anything more than an everyday occurrence to 
mingle in the society of English nobility. 

During the initiation of this honored guest into New 
York fashionable society, Guy Hurlbcrt and Florence Fair- 
weather were wandering around the art gallery, and enjoy- 
ing the study of the great masters together. 

I am so glad to get away from the necessity of an 
introduction to the earl, Mr. Rum ford. That was the 
reason I asked you to take me in here. It is such a bore to 
talk to people to whom you have nothing to say, and if you 
had, wouldnT dare say it. But perhaps it was selfish in me 
to take you away from that charmed circle V’ and Florence 
Fairweather looked up in Guy’s face with an arch smile, as 
much as to say “now is your chance to say something pret- 
ty about the pleasure of my society.” 

Poor Guy was much quicker to think, than to express 
his thoughts ; and so he only replied that he had no desire 
to stay with the earl’s party, and that it gave him pleasure 
to serve her in any possible way. If he had been a society 
young man, he would have most likely declared that it was 
“ heaven to be in her presence,” and all that sort of thing ; 
which in reality it was to him, down deep beneath that 
diffidence and reserve which his prolonged battle with 
poverty had built like a wall around his emotional nature. 

The young lady looked somewhat disappointed at Guy’s 
apparent lack of feeling and appreciation of the sacrifice she 
had made in choosing to meander alone with him, instead 
of taking advantage of making the earl’s acquaintance. It 
is a pity that we cannot sometimes read our companions 
hearts like an open book. Why is it, that two beings who 
are deeply in love with each other, are always misunder- 
standing one another’s motives and misinterpreting their 
language ? 


238 


THE VANDERWATER BALL. 


Miss Fuirwatlier made herself positively unhappy over 
a mere nothing, when it was analyzed. She imagined all 
sorts of impossibilities in regard to Guy’s motives in saying 
this, or that, to her, instead of what she thought he would 
say if he cared for her as she did for him. As humiliating 
as the thought was, that she loved this poor young man 
without having any guarantee that it was reciprocated on 
his part, she could not crush it out. And then she would 
suddenly stand upon her dignity and assume a frigid man- 
ner toward this unsuspecting youth, until he began to 
feel that he had made a mistake as to the cordiality of her 
invitation for him to accompany them to the reception. 
He grew very uneasy, and asked if she would like to be 
escorted back to the drawing-room, where the sound of 
revelry seemed to be approaching its height. 

As he ceased speaking, Jasper entered the gallery alone, 
wearing an expression of unrest, and as Guy thought, 
unhappiness. He passed them with a bow of recognition, 
and commenced a survey of the superb paintings. He 
seemed absorbed in the works of art before him, and did 
not notice that his mother and Helen were in the room, 
escorted by the earl. Miss Dunn swept past Florence and 
Guy with a slight bow of recognition, and the party went to 
another part of the gallery. 

Guy wondered if Jasper’s look of disappointment and 
unrest had anything to do with Helen’s being escorted by 
the earl, instead of himself, around the art gallery. But 
Jasper cared much less who escorted Helen Dunn than ho 
supposed. And so the drama went on, under masque, 
until it was the hour for breaking up, or ringing down 
the curtain. Jasper with all the courtesy and grace of a 
society bred gentleman, gave Helen his arm, and carrying 
her bouquet and fan, conducted her to their carriage, all 
the while his thoughts running riot over Pansey Bloom, 


NEW TROUBLES. 


239 


the errand girl. While Guy Hurlbert, with a vague sense 
of having, in some mysterious way, offended the one woman 
he most cared to please, wearing a solemn countenance, — 
which would seem more appropriate for a funeral than a 
ball, — led Miss Fairweather to the ladies’ dressing-room, 
and went for his coat and hat. 

As for the lady herself, life seemed a miserable farce, 
and Guy Hurlbert an unfathomable mystery, but a mystery 
in which her future happiness was seriously involved. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

NEW TROUBLES. 

Guy came home from the office the next evening earlier 
than usual, carrying the burden of a severe headache, added 
to a serious disturbance in the region of his heart. 

Where is Pansey, Auntie ? I have a racking head- 
ache, and I am sure her little hands on my temples would 
relieve the pain,” was the young man’s salutation, as ho 
entered the presence of his busily engaged aunt, and re- 
moved his overcoat, which appeared a burden too heavy for 
his strength. 

I have sent her up to Mrs. Bunn’s with the remain- 
ing lace and ribbon belonging to Miss Helen. I forgot to 
put them in the box last night in my anxiety to get the 
dress to her in season,” replied his aunt, looking anxiously 
at his tired, pale face. But it is now time for her re- 
turn.” 

Po you know, Auntie, I think we should be very 


240 


NEW TROUBLES. 


lonely without Pansey ? She is such a sweet, gentle little 
creature. It seems as if I had known her all my life.” 

“I feel the same myself, Guy. She is, indeed, lovable. 
I hope she can relieve your head, my boy,” continued the 
dressmaker, as if she had suddenly recollected the cause of 
Guy’s early appearance home that night. It was the late 
hours and the excitement of the reception, doubtless, that 
has caused your headache.” 

Very likely ; it doesn’t agree with me to dissipate. 
I am glad I do not have to go to a Vanderwater ball every 
week. I cannot imagine how society young men endure late 
hours as well as they do. It would unfit me for business 
altogether.” 

I suppose society young men, as a rule, are not tied 
up to regular business hours, Guy ; and then they become 
hardened to dissipation after a while, probably.” 

Perhaps they do. But you would be surprised to 
know the number of young clerks, on smaller salaries than 
mine even, who attend most of the fashionable balls, be- 
sides theatre and opera four nights in a week, during the 
gay season. I cannot conceive how they get the money, in 
the first place, nor can I understand what keeps them from 
breaking down altogether. I should not care to trifle thus 
with my health.” 

But you enjoyed the reception last evening, did you 
not, Guy ?” 

“ Yes, Auntie ; in a degree.” 

“ I should not mind seeing that brilliant affair myself. 
There must have been a wilderness of elegant costumes and 
diamonds. Do tell me how Miss Helen looked in her dress ! 
I suppose you saw her, did you not ?” 

“ Oh, yes. Her costume was superb, and becoming ; 
far more attractive to me than her face ; although it may 
be very ungallant for me to say so. She looked as cold as 


NEW TROUBLES. 


241 


an arctic iceberg, and as brilliant as the evening star ; and 
that is about all that one who looks beyond chiselled features 
and graceful carriage pan say of her,” continued Guy, with 
an oratorical flourish worthy of a lyceum lecturer. 

“ I suppose the earl was the lion of the evening, since 
none of the ladies present were titled.” 

Yes ; he was the loadstone after it was discovered that 
I was not the earl. There was a singular blunder made 
when I was introduced as Mr. Rumford. The hostess 
mistook me for the lion of the party. When the mistake 
was corrected by Mr. Fairweather, who presented me, there 
was quite an amusing scattering among the ladies who had 
surrounded us.” 

Well, there is no doubt in my mind but that you are 
just as good as the earl, and probably much better looking 
— since you have youth in your favor — although it is said 
that the present earl is but little over forty ; but some say, 
not very well preserved.” 

“To change the subject. Auntie, you remember that 
night 1 told you about losing my banking-house keys, I 
suppose !” 

“ Yes ; I remember, Guy ; but what of it ?” 

“ Well, I found them under a pile of books on my desk 
to-day ; and I thought I had hunted everything over a 
dozen times or more. It is very singular ! It almost 
seems as if some one had put them there after our search 
the day I missed them. It is a very annoying incident to 
me ; and the more I think of it, the more so it seems.” 

As he finished speaking, the door opened, and Pansey 
entered in remarkably good spirits, and walking with elas- 
tic step over to the sewing machine, she placed the hand- 
satchel upon it, and then turned around and greeted Guy 
cheerfully, saying he “looked a little dujl and pale to- 
night.” 


11 . 


242 


NEW TROUBLES. 


‘‘There is a good reason for my dullness and pallor, 
Pansey. I am so glad you have come ! I am tortured with 
a racking headache. It takes your little hands, after all, 
to relieve aches and pains in the head.” 

“ How about the heartache, Mr. Guy ?” retorted the 
young girl, quickly. “ It would require one more used to 
it than I am, to cure such pain I suppose.” 

“I am not so sure of that, either! One might go 
further, and fare much worse.” 

“Well, child! you seem in better spirits than you did 
last night on your return from Major Dunn’s. I am glad 
to see you more cheerful !” and Mrs. Withington patted her 
dimpled cheek tenderly. 

“Oh, yes. Auntie. Miss Helen was real nice and kind 
to me. She showed me her beautiful diamond ring with 
two pink pearls in the center. Oh it was such a beauty.” 

“ Was it on her finger, Pansey ?” asked the dressmaker. 

“ Ho, mam. It was in a handsome plush case with a 
diamond pin. She had just finished dressing when I got 
there, she told me, and had not put on her jewels.” 

“ She can not be a superstitious young lady, then. It is 
considered an omen of ill luck to take off an engagement 
ring, I have heard. That diamond and pink pearl is her 
engagement ring, I think Miss Forbes said,” spoke Guy. 

“ Yes ; she told me that Mr. Jasper Montrose gave it to 
her when they were engaged, and they were out upon a 
rock in the bay down at Mount Desert. She said they were 
surrounded by the tide, and would have been lost, only that 
Mrs. Dunn came to them in a row boat, and saved them just 
in time,” prattled Pansey, breathlesslys ; tanding mean- 
while beside Guy^s chair, and manipulating his throbbing 
brow with her soft little hands. 

“ It seems to me Miss Helen has become suddenly con- 
fidential with you, child, after her ill-treatment of last 


NEW TROUBLES. 


243 


night, too;” and Mrs. Withington folded up her work to 
prepare for dinner, 

“ Oh, it is so nice to have such beautiful things as Miss 
Helen has. I wish I could have such a lovely diamond ring 
as her’s, and be rich, and go to grand parties ! But 
I don’t suppose I ever shall and Pansey fluttered about in 
such an excited manner that both Guy and his aunt were 
taken by surprise. 

‘‘ I should rather have your disposition and humble lot 
in life, Pansey, than Helen Dunn’s, and her wealth. You 
will get far more real enjoyment out of life than she will, 
I am sure.” 

‘^I am glad you think so, Mr. Guy ; but I fear my dis- 
position is not so good as you imagine. Sometimes I feel 
real wicked and rebellious. I did last night when I came 
home in that dreadful car, and all the passengers stared so 
at me, because I could not help crying at Miss Helen’s cruel 
words to Mrs. Dunn about me. But Mr. Jasper was very 
kind ; indeed he was ; to go and put me in the car after all 
Miss Helen had said.” 

As Pansey ceased speaking, there came a sharp stroke 
upon the bell, and she went to answer it. Miss Forbes 
stood upon the stoop, and close behind her, was a tall, 
sinewy man, muffled in a heavy overcoat. 

Is this gentleman with you. Miss Forbes ?” asked 
Pansey, in an undertone. 

“Oh, no, child. I never have escorts.” 

By this time, the man had reached the door, and 
inquired if this was Mrs. Withington’s house. 

Miss Forbes answered up herself, for Pansey seemed 
confused and agitated, the spinster thought. 

“ Yes, sir ; this is Mrs. Withington’s house. Do you 
want to see her ?” 

“ Yes, mam ; for a few minutes.” 


244 


NEW TEOUBLES. 


By this time, Pansey had found her tongue, and she 
asked in a low voice, wliich still had a slight tremor in its 
tones : 

“ Will you walk in the reception room, sir, and send in 
your name ?” at the same time leading the way to that 
small room. 

‘‘ No matter about the name, girl ; I only want to see 
her a few minutes on business, tell her,^’ and the man set- 
tled himself in an easy chair, and unbuttoned his overcoat, 
revealing a row of brass buttons on his inside coat. 

Pansey, although considerably alarmed at this exhibi- 
tion, and wondering what an officer of the law could want 
of her Auntie,” went quickly to the dining-room, where 
Miss Forbes had already told the news to the dressmaker, 
before knowing that he was an officer. 

The amazed Mrs. Withington smoothed out her violet 
satin cap ribbons, and went in to meet her caller. 

You wished to see me, sir ?” and she turned the gas 
on from its faint glimmer to a full blaze, meanwhile scan- 
ning the face of her strange visitor. 

‘"Pve called on rather unpleasant business, mam,” at 
length he spoke, twisting his stout thumbs over each other 
in an idle, careless fashion. 

“ Unpleasant business, did you say ?” repeated his 
astonished listener. 

Yes, mam. But iPs nothin* that very much concerns 
you, either. You’ve got an errand girl, I understand, 
mam, what is named Pansey.” 

Yes, sir ;” staring at him blankly. 

She’s just come from Major Dunn’s house, too, hain’t 
she ?” 

‘'Yes, sir,” again, more mystified than before. 

“ Did she bring a small hand satchel with her, mam ?” 

“ She did, sir ! a satchel of mine, in which she took 


NEW TEOUBLES. 


215 


home some lace and ribbons to Miss Helen Dunn I” 
explained the now perplexed and irritated woman. Is 
there anything very remarkable in that fact, sir ?” brist- 
ling up a little hotly, and turning uneasily in her chair, as 
if she would give her visitor to understand his call had 
been quite long enough already. But he took no notice of 
this uneasiness, apparently. 

I wish to see this young errand girl, mam, and also 
the satchel she brought home!” and he threw back his coat 
and revealed a detective’s full uniform. 

call this the height of impertinence, in a respectable 
lady’s house, sir! By what authority do you come here to 
search my errand girl’s satchel?” and she stood up, trem- 
bling and defiant, and looked the oflBcer full in the face. 

^^By this authority, mam!” and he smote upon the 
brass buttons, and produced a paper for the arrest of the 
errand girl, Pansey Bloom, charged with stealing a pearl 
and diamond ring from Miss Helen Dunn, while in her 
room that evening. 

Mrs. Withington gave a frightful shriek, and dropped 
into the chair, from which she had just arisen. By this 
time Miss Forbes, Guy and Pansey were upon the scene of 
confusion. 

What is it ?” they all gasped in a breath. 

The officer, being the only clear-headed one among 
them, just then, replied: 

‘‘1 am here for the arrest of one Pansey Bloom, this 
dressmaker’s errand girl, charged with the theft of a pearl 
and diamond ring from Miss Helen Dunn.” 

“ Thejt, sir! did you say thief f demanded Guy. 

Theft ! thief?” repeated the agitated spinster. That is 
impossible!” 

Don’t be too sure, mam, till search has been 


246 


NEW TROUBLES. 


made,” coolly retorted the officer, as if he was pretty certain 
of his victim. 

Where do you wish to search, sir ? You had better 
commence at once, and be done with it !” exclaimed 
Guy. 

“I am ready now, then, if you will produce a certain 
satchel the girl carried up and brought back from Miss 
Dunn’s room to-night. If she hain’t taken it out yet, I 
suppose I’ll find it in there, securely hid away. Is this the 
girl?” he asked, looking at the frightened Pansey, who had 
turned as colorless as a piece of white marble. 

“This is my aunt’s errand girl, and her name is Pansey 
Bloom, and she has just come from Miss Dunn’s, with the 
satchel you mention; and, of course, you can search it and 
satisfy yourself that there has been a great mistake made 
in some way. Where is the satchel, Pansey, dear ?” and 
Gny strode over, and lifted the half-fainting girl from an 
ottoman upon which she was crouched, trembling and help- 
less with terror. 

“There’s a satchel on the sewin’ machine!” volunteered 
Miss Forbes. “Is that the one you fetched home 
Pansey?” 

Pansey bowed assent, still as helpless as an infant, and 
her teetli chattering as if overtaken by an ague fit. 

The detective followed Miss Forbes and Guy out into 
the dining-room, and the terror stricken Pansey and Mrs. 
Withington sat still in their seats, as if utterly powerless 
to move. 

“ Here is the satchel,” and Guy passed it to the officer, 
telling him to “ search it all he wished,” adding : “ We 
have no criminal mysteries in this house, thank Heaven !” 

The dressmaker and Pansey now appeared at the door, 
both as white as spectres, and Pansey’s dry eyes glaring 
like burning coals upon the officer. There was a breath- 


NEW TROUBLES. 


247 


less suspense with all those in the room, as they watched 
the ofl&cer open the satchel and look inside. Then he put 
his monstrous hand down into its depths, and took out the 
fatal pearl and diamond ring, and held it up to the wait- 
ing witnesses. 

Heaven help us all !” ejaculated Mrs. Withington. 

There is some dreadful mistake I” gasped Guy, white 
and rigid, glaring first at the ring, then at the officer, and 
next at Pansey. 

‘‘ Evidently the mistake has been made by the errand 
girl, judging from her looks and actions, which is generally 
pretty fair judgment,” retorted the detective, with a cold 
sneer. ‘‘IVe seen hundreds of jest such cases. These 
unknown waifs are found out to be all alike in the end, 
and all kind folk^s trouble and pains is throwd away on 
^em.” 

Pansey, can you not speak for yourself, poor bird ? 
Can you not tell this man that you are innocent of the 
crime of which he accuses you. Do not be so frightened, 
speak up and never fear. You shall not be harmed while 
I am here to protect you !” and Guy took her cold and 
limp hand in his, and knelt before her in an agony of 
suspense. 

At last she broke forth in a strange, unnatural voice, 
husky and trembling. 

donT think I could have taken that ring,” and 
pressing her hands tightly upon her icy forehead, she 
cried out in despair: ‘"Oh, I feel so strange in here," 
pressing her hand still harder upon her forehead. 

“ There is no use of fooling around here with this giri 
any longer. There’s no doubt about her guilt, and all this 
pretense at being so shocked may as well be stopped now as 
any time. The girl has got to go to the station-house 
with me, and the (juicker you all make up your minds to 


248 


NEW TROUBLES. 


that fact, the sooner the troublesome affair will be over/’ 
and the officer put his rough hand on Pansey’s arm, and 
commanded her to stand up, and take the consequences 
of her theft, sensibly.” 

' Guy drew back with clenched fist, white with rage, 
and was on the point of striking the officer in the face. 
But Miss Forbes stepped between them, and averted the 
blow. 

“ That won’t do, Guy ! the officer must do his duty, — as 
he supposes arresting Pansey’s his duty, — but there’s no 
need for such brutal talk to the poor thing.” 

For the first time in his life to a human being, Guy 
pushed Miss Forbes fiercely from him, saying : 

Do you think I shall stand here and see that innocent 
girl falsely accused of theft and dragged off to the station- 
house without protesting against it ? What material 
could I be made of and do that ?” and he gnashed his 
teeth with righteous indignation. 

But it is useless to protest whether the young girl’s 
innocent or guilty, I shall have to obey the requirements 
of law. The property is found in her possession, and she 
has not positively denied the theft. I don’t want to do 
nothing rough or cruel, sir ; but it can’t be helped, as I 
see.” 

The officer had toned down in his brutal language, 
seeing the helpless girl had a brave and determined 
defender. 

Pansey sat in a low chair, rocking to and fro, and moan- 
ing piteously. She was draining the cup of bitterness to its 
•very dregs now, and every one in the room, the officer 
included, stood looking on with awe and respectful 
silence. 

At length she arose and tottered to Mrs. Withington, 
standing before her, silent and tearless, for a moment. 


NEW TEODBLES. 


249 


‘^They say I am a thief. Auntie, and must go to the 
station-house. I will go without resistance, for all your 
sakes. Good-bye ! if I never see you again you have all 
been good to me.” 

She went over to the officer, white and trembling, and 
said she was ready to go with him, begging that he would 
take her away at once. 

The man was staggered. He had never met with such 
a case as this before, and her pale, beautiful face had 
somewhat melted his hard heart. Her hat and cloak were 
still on, and she had not yet eaten dinner. But that mat- 
tered little. She could not have forced herself to eat a 
morsel, if her life had depended upon it. Guy went to her 
and folded her in his arms convulsively, pressing a kiss 
upon her cold, quivering lips ; tlien he turned and left the 
room, and fled upstairs to his chamber. 

The two women embraced her silently, with a sorrow 
far beyond expression by words or tears ; and the officer 
took the little satchel, placed the ring back inside, and 
conducted Pansey out into the cold, crisp night. 

♦ * * ♦ * 

There was a walk of half-a-mile to the station-house, 
toward which the officer was taking Pansey. It was a 
tedious walk, and the young girPs feet were like lumps of 
ice, and her knees shook and trembled so that it seemed as 
if she could scarcely stand. Neither spoke a word during 
that seemingly endless walk, and when at last they reached 
their destination, the terrified girl wished the journey 
hither had been even longer. It was a dismal-looking 
place, as all such houses are. They entered the long, 
gloomy corridor and walked to the further end of it, and 
into the jailer’s room. This was stifling with pipe smoke, 
and smelt almost as vile as a cage for wild beasts. 

“ A new bird for one of the cages, Jim,” spoke the 
11 * 


250 


NEW TROUBLES. 


detective, and he handed Pansey over to the custody of the 
disgusting and gross turnkey. 

“A fine, feathered bird, too, eh! Bill? Looks as 
though she belonged in a gilded cage I I’ll see what I can 
do for her. Bill ! Come on, miss, and I’ll show you to a 
room and the brute took roughly hold of Pansey’s arm, 
and pulled her along through the dimly-lighted corridors, 
opened one of the cells and pushed her inside, asking if 
she had been to dinner, and if not, should he bring her 
quail on toast and a bottle of wine ?” 

Pansey dropped down with a thud upon the hard seat 
by the door of the cell, and deigned no reply to this impu- 
dent question. Perhaps she had not even heard it, for she 
felt as if her reason were leaving her, and rough or cour- 
teous language was about the same to her then. Nothing 
could give her additional pain or misery. She felt as if 
turned to stone, and she did not notice how cold her feet 
•were, or how vile the atmosphere was in that dismal cell ; 
nor yet did she heed the mumblings of drunken prisoners, 
or the frightful oaths of men and women who were being 
pushed into cells around her, and who had been gathered 
from the lowest and vilest dens of iniquity in the city. 

At length a drowsiness stole over her benumbed senses, 
and she lost consciousness in sleep. She dreamed that 
Jasper came and lifted her in his arms, and carried her out 
of that dismal place into a beautiful green lawn, where 
warm breezes blew upon her cheek, laden with perfume. 
And then he took the glittering ring, kissed it, and slipped 
it upon her finger, saying: ** You shall be my Pansey for- 
ever.” 

With this she awoke, and remembering where she was, 
shrieked aloud in her despair and helplessness. 


FOUR BCENE8. 


251 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

FOUR SCENES. 

Scene First. — It is eight o^clock in the morning. 
The snow is falling thick and fast, sifting lightly down 
upon the station-house. No ray of light reaches Pansey’s 
dismal cell, except the pale glimmer from the long corridor, 
which falls upon her frightened face through the grating. 

The jail keeper comes heavily over the stone floor, turns 
the key in the monstrous lock and opens the door. He has 
the prisoner’s breakfast, such as it is, served in a tin dish, 
and a mug of something by courtesy called coffee. He 
hands it in to her, saying : Well, did you enjoy a comfort- 
able night, pretty bird 

Pansey gazed at him stolidly, but could make no sound 
in reply. 

There’s your breakfast, miss. Why don’t you say 
somethin’ ? Are you deaf and dumb ? You had better 
eat your breakfast, for you’ll be wanted in the court-room 
in a couple of hours. The court sets at ten, and your case 
may be the first one called. What do you set there and 
stare at me in that dumb and sassy way for, girl ? I 
shouldn’t think you’d ever been in a station-house in your 
life, by the way you act !” 

All this gabbling from the man was as Greek to Pansey. 
She did not even know that it was morning, nor that she 
had to appear in court when it was morning. The night 
seemed like one long continued and never ending night- 
mare to her. 


252 


FOUR SCENES. 


Come ; why don’t you go to eatin’, girl ? You’ll need 
it before neon, I can tell you.” 

‘^Ido not wish the food; take it away, please,” and 
Pansey closed her eyes, and turned her head away from the 
disgusting man. He obeyed, without niaking any more 
useless talk ; and again slamming the iron door, he locked 
it, and carried the food intended for Pansey to the next 
occupied cell, where he found a more hungry and talkative 
prisoner. 

After he had gone, she aroused from her frightful stupor 
and began to try to think over all that had occurred since 
she left Helen Dunn’s chamber the night before. One by 
one the dreadful situations crowded upon her dazed brain. 
The entrance of the detective at the house ; the frightful 
shriek, heard from her ‘‘ Auntie ” in the next room ; the 
charge of theft upon her by the officer ; Guy’s clenched 
fist, and face white with suppressed rage ; the sparkling 
ring held up to view as a silent witness against her ; Mrs. 
Withington’s cry of “ Heaven help us all !” Guy’s groan 
that there must be some dreadful mistake ; ” his call 
upon her to assert her innocence ; and her own stupid and 
condemning reply : I do not think I could have taken 
that ring !” and then her good-byes to them all, and Guy’s 
passionate, convulsive embrace and fervent kiss upon her 
cold, colorless lips ; the long hard walk to the station- 
house ; the smiting together of her knees ; and last of all, 
being pushed into that cell, and her strange dream of Jas- 
per. 

She sat with folded hands and closed eyes, attempting 
to raise her voice in supplication to the Almighty — the God 
of the fatherless and friendless — that he would look down 
upon her in this hour of helplessness, and save her from 
this dreadful disgrace and ruin. Then the hot tears 
dropped upon her pale cheeks and relieved her parched 


FOUR SCENES. 


253 


and burning eyelids. Her face grew serene, and wore a 
sweet and peaceful look, like one who had received a heav- 
enly benediction. She sat still, with her eyes closed and 
the tears forcing their way through the lids, and falling 
upon her little folded hands. Her lips moved tremulously, 
and her whole attitude was one of prayer. 

The sound of a key in the lock aroused her, and she 
sprang to her feet and faced the dooj*. When it opened 
Jasper Montrose stood before her. She raised her eyes, 
bedewed with tears, to his wistful face, and thought she 
saw a vision from heaven ; then fell fainting in his arms. 

Scene Two. — There was a promiscuous herd of pris- 
oners waiting in the police court dock two hours later. Bill 
Eeilley was called up, charged with beating his wife, said 
wife being there with bandaged head to witness against 
him. He was sent to the island for two months, and the 
wife went out muttering, because the sentence had been so 
severe, — ‘‘just because he beat his own wife.” 

Next came Madame Pachouli, who had been overhauled 
for keeping a disorderly and disreputable house, against 
whom some of her neighbors and the detectives appeared 
in accusation. Then came a poor wretch who had stolen a 
ham ; which he said he had done to keep his wife and chil- 
dren from starvation. He was sent up for four months, as 
his crime was considered more heinous than the wife 
beater’s or the woman who kept a disorderly house, which 
latter got clear by promising to vacate her present quarters. 

Major Dunn had taken his granddaughter to the court 
room himself, as Jasper and his mother had refused to 
accompany her. Miss Forbes sat beside Mrs. Withington 
and Guy, each of them ready with aid and sympathy for 
the unfortunate girl, whom they loved, and in whom they 
firmly believed. The tender-hearted spinster had brought 


254 


FOUR SCENES. 


money for Guy to offer as bail, without which she knew the 
poor girl would be committed to await her trial, if the 
owner of the ring appeared against her that morning. 
The court-room was packed with people, of one kind and 
another. The rich and poor, the respectable and degraded 
had assembled there for different purposes — some to claim 
stolen property, and others to avenge wrongs, either real or 
imaginary. 

The clerk scanned his schedule, and there was a few 
minutes pause in the proceedings, during which interval 
ensued a low hum of voices and an uneasy wriggling in the 
uncomfortable seats. 

A sharp rap sounded upon the desk, and all heads were 
turned again toward the bench. 

“ Pansey Bloom I” rang out upon the stillness. There 
was a rustle among the prisoners, and a policeman con- 
ducted the young girl, her face as white as the newly fallen 
snow upon the window sills, giving her eyes a deep purple 
hue in their alabaster frame work, to the side of the bench 
of justice. 

The judge and the clerk and the waiting assemblage 
gazed upon her as if a pure white dove had fluttered down 
into the prisoners’ dock. The buzz and hum was for a 
moment beyond the control of the judge, and Pansey 
thought she was going to die. The searching gaze of all 
the spectators seemed to paralyze her, and the time which 
she stood and waited her fate seemed an eternity. She did 
not raise her eyes once during this critical moment, and 
there was a nervous tremulousness about her sensitive 
mouth that would have melted the hardest heart, even 
though she had been guilty of the gravest theft ever 
charged upon a prisoner in a police court. 

The judge took up the glittering bauble and pro- 
ceeded : 


FOUR SCENES. 


265 


The prisoner is charged with stealing this diamond 
and pearl ring. Who appears against her ?” 

Helen Dunn arose, flushed and excited, and said, in a 
husky voice : 

I do.” 

The ring was passed her for inspection. 

Is this your property, miss ?” 

** It is, sir !” 

** Who found this ring in the possession of the pris- 
oner ?” 

I did, your honor !” and the detective stepped by the 
prisoner whom he had arrested the night before. 

I arrested her in one Mrs. Withington^s house. The 
prisoner was her errand girl. It was in this satchel I found 
the ring about half-an-hour after she left the owner^s room, 
your honor,” producing the satchel with considerable 
bluster and pomposity. 

The judge turned to the prisoner. 

Are you guilty of this charge, or not guilty ?” 

She hesitated a moment, looking flrst toward Helen 
Dunn, then at the judge, with quivering lips and dilated 
eyes. 

I do not think I am guilty, sir,” and she fell to the 
floor, as if struck by a bolt of lightning. 

The judge saw plainly that she was unaccustomed to a 
court-room, as even tlie manner in which she should have 
replied to his question of guilty or not guilty was Greek 
to her. It is safe to say that he considered this a very 
awkward case to manage. She was raised to her feet again 
by the detective, who dashed a shower of water upon her 
auburn hair ; and in a few minutes the court ” pro- 
ceeded. 

As this girl is not sure one way or the other about her 
guilt, she will be committed to jail, unless bail is offered for 


256 


FOUR SCENES. 


her appearance on the date fixed for trial. Does any one 
present appear with the sum of one thousand dollars in her 
behalf ?” 

A young man arose in the rear of the court room, as 
the last words escaped the judge’s lips. 

Jasper Montrose, volunteer to give bail for the pris- 
oner.” 

There was a storm of applause from the audience, and 
then her deliverer and Guy met together by the dock to 
take the fainting girl away from those dreadful scenes. 
When Helen saw them by her side, she fell upon the floor 
at her grandfather’s feet. 

Scene Three. — It is evening, and the excited Mrs. 
Withington has just lighted the gas and turned it down to 
a faint glimmer in Pansey’s room. She is tossing and 
moaning upon her pillows. The little city doctor is 
there, with his fingers on her fluttering pulse. Miss 
Forbes is down in the kitchen, making poultices over the 
range, and as she stirs the different mixtures, the briny 
drops fall upon the hissing stove covers. It seems to her 
beclouded brain as if the angel of death hovered around 
the house, impatient for admission. 

It is nearly time for Guy to return from business ; but 
the unconscious girl knows naught of time or coming and 
going around her couch. A little treasured trinket is 
under her pillow, for she has slept with this memento there 
since New Year’s night. 

Miss Forbes tiptoes into the room with poultices and 
beef broth, and tells Mrs. Withington she had better go 
down to dinner with Guy, as he has come home tired and 
ill and has to go back again as soon as dinner is over. 

** Can you stay with the doctor while I go down to the 


FOUK SCENES. 


257 


poor boy, then. Miss Forbes?” asks the nervous and agi- 
tated woman. 

Well, I should think I could do that much, on a 
pinch,” replied the spinster. ‘^If the doctor think’s I’ll 
do,” she added, looking at the city doctor for the first 
time, as she had never been in her friend’s house during 
any of his previous visits. 

Why, of course, he knows you will do, and probably 
do a great deal better than I can for the poor child. She 
is so very ill and delirious half of the time, I cannot seem 
to do scarcely anything to relieve her. Doctor, this is Miss 
Forbes ; a faithful friend of little Pansey’s.” 

The light was so dim that neither could see the other’s 
face distinctly, and therefore the spinster did not notice 
the sudden start which the doctor gave at the mention of 
her name in the introduction. She went to Pansey’s bed- 
side, and laid her bony hand on her burning brow ; and 
then turned and asked the doctor where to apply the poul- 
tices. 

Upon the back of the neck,” ordered the doctor. 
‘‘ If anything will save her from a brain fever, that will ; 
but I fear it is already too late to prevent the dreadful 
disease.” 

Miss Forbes turned the unconscious girl over upon one 
side to apply the poultice as directed ; and after it was 
properly secured to her delicate skin, and snugly covered, 
she held her prostrate form against her shoulder, and tried 
to adjust her pillows in a more comfortable position for 
her weary, restless head. As she did so, something slipjied 
from the under pillow, and fell upon the floor at the doc- 
tor’s feet. 

“ Something fell down, doctor, didn’t there ? I 
thought I heard something drop,” spoke the sp>inster, 
placing Pansey back gently upon the puffed up pillows. 


258 


FOUfi SCENES. 


which she had shaken until they were as light as eider- 
down. 

The doctor stooped and picked up a locket. His curi- 
osity moved him to open it, and look inside, for he thought 
there must be some likeness or lock of hair that the sick 
girl valued very highly, else she would not keep it under 
her pillows. 

He arose, and went to the gas jet, and turned up the 
light, and looked upon the face of a handsome young 
woman. Then he turned it over, and touched the spring 
on the opposite side. He gazed upon it intently for a 
moment, and then exclaimed : 

My God ! It is Leonard Hurlbert !” 

** Did you know Leonard Hurlbert, doctor ?” ejaculated 
Miss Forbes. 

I have seen him, madam ; but it was years ago, when 
I was a young man,” and the little doctor went back to his 
seat by the bed, and looked earnestly into the face of the 
sick girl. “Surely this must be Leonard’s daughter! 
Yes ! Where have my eyes been all these months ?” he 
said to himself, still gazing upon her white face, from 
which the fitful fever turns had passed, leaving it more 
pallid than before. “ Leonard Humbert’s daughter accused 
of theft, and unable to assert her innocence in the coui't- 
room, too ! Leonard Hurlbert’s daughter a thief ? No, 
never ! God forbid that !” He was limping across the 
floor now in his excitement, all regardless of Miss Forbes’ 
jirescnce, while she stood still and looked at him, as if she 
thought he was suddenly bereft of his senses, and might be 
a dangerous companion to be alone with. 

“If this is Leonard Hurlbert’s daughter, then she is 
Guy’s own sister,” spoke Miss Forbes, half to herself and 
half to the agitated doctor, who was still pacing across the 
floor from the door to the bed. 


FOUR SCENES. 


259 


^‘To Guy, did you say, madam ? Is his name Guy 
Hurlbert ? I never heard him called aught save Guy by 
liis aunt or Pansey.” 

“ That is his name, doctor. Guy Hurlbert.” 

The doctor still held the locket open, and every now 
and again looking upon the portrait. 

“ Leonard Hurlbert must have been a dear friend of 
yours, doctor. Was he the only one of the family you 
knew ?” 

I knew his father and mother, madam.” 

Did you happen to know the oldest brother that died 
ill a hospital from wounds received by bein’ crushed under 
the cars ? John Hurlbert, doctor ?” and the spinster’s 
voice trembled as if she were guilty of having a hand in 
his death. 

Yes, madam. I remember him, too ! John Hurl- 
bert. But did you know anything of him, madam 

‘‘Five and twenty years ago, I knew John Hurlbert, 
doctor.” 

“It cannot be that this is the Miss Forbes who was 
once engaged to John Hurlbert ; I saw her several times 
with him, and there is no resemblance between her and 
you, madam.” 

“And yeti was once engaged to John Hurlbert, five 
and twenty years ago. It don’t seem long since then, either, 
and I was called good looking, then ; — yes ; five and twenty 
years ago ! and I was engaged to John Hurlbert ; and 
strong drink stood between me and all that was, or is, 
worth living for !” these last disconnected sentences were 
uttered low, to herself, and yet the little city doctor heard 
them all, and wondered. 

A moan from Pansey brought them both to their feet, 
and they went to her side, and discovered that she seemed 
to be partially returning to consciousness. 


260 


FOUE SCENES. 


Nothing must be said to excite her now. Miss Forbes. 
She would most likely understand. It is the mustard 
poultice that has had the desired effect. It is drawing the 
disease from her head.^’ They succeeded in making her 
swallow some beef tea, and her medicine ; and when this 
was done, and they again sat down, G-iiy came up stairs, 
crept softly into the room, and over to the bed. 

How is she to-night, doctor ? Auntie tells me she is 
very ill, poor dear.” 

I hope she will be better in the morning with careful 
nursing, such as our good friend here will give her through 
the night,” and a tear glistened in the kind little man’s 
eye. 

** I came up to look at her a moment before I went back 
to the oflSce. The cashier and I arc obliged to work awhile 
this evening. Auntie asked me to tell you she would be up 
soon to relieve you, and let you go down to dinner. Miss 
Forbes,” and after stooping to kiss Pansey’s feverish lips, 
he turned, and went out, bidding them good-night. 

The doctor gave Pansey’s watcher for the night careful 
directions regarding medicine and nourishment, and left, 
to return as early as possible again in the morning. But 
there were many calls at this season of the year upon this 
little city doctor ; for diptheria, colds and pneumonia were 
very prevalent among the poorer classes of patients, to 
which he administered. Then Mrs. Withington came and 
took the excited spinster’s place, while she went to dinner. 

Scene Four. — The drawing-room at Major Dunn’s 
residence is a scene of confusion and conflicting emotions. 
The entire family is gathered there, and it seems to be a 
“ house divided against itself.” 

So, young man, you have made a jackass of yourself, 
so to speak, and given bail to a sneak thief, who has stolen 


FOUR SCENES. 


2G1 


your betrothed’s engagement ring. A fine use you have 
made of your money as soon as it has come into your pos- 
session,” and Major Dunn smote his heavy fist upon the 
arm of his chair, by way of giving emphasis to his cutting 
words. 

“ My money would not be my own, if I could not invest 
it as I saw fit, sir. I do not choose to call the young girl 
for whom I gave bail this morning a thief.” 

What, then, do you call her, may I inquire ?” 

A much aggrieved and innocent young person, sir, 
whom I think guilty of no crime but being penniless 
and an orphan.” 

I suppose you hear your intended husband’s language, 
Helen ?” 

^‘Yes, papa,” languidly, and with a show of being 
injured beyond repair to the heart’s core. 

Have you nothing more to say about this disgraceful 
affair, young lady ? Can you not protest against such 
insane folly on the part of your betrothed husband.” 

I fear it must be all over between Jasper and me, as 
things have turned. It is no small matter for an engaged 
young man to become the champion of a thieving girl, 
whose origin no one knows, and probably if it were known, 
would be found to be the lowest and most degraded in New 
York and she writhed in her venomous wrath. 

Mrs. Dunn sat speechless, her hands folded across her 
lap, as limp as if she were powerless to raise them. No ap- 
peal was made to her, whatever, as none appeared necessary 
to her husband or Helen ; and Jasper was past talking 
calmly. But the kind little woman’s sympathies were given, 
mentally, to the accused young girl. 

Jasper arose and paced the floor rapidly. 

*^Can you not compose yourself, Jasper, and sit, instead 
of walking the floor in that frenzied manner. You make 


262 


FOUR BCENE9. 


me nervous !” and the young lady gave a short, hysterical 
laugh. 

He went over to his betrothed, scanning her face with a 
look of perplexed anxiety in his handsome, true eyes. 

‘"Do you desire our engagemont cancelled, Helen, be- 
cause I have befriended this innocent girl, as I believe her 
to be ?” 

“I have not said so yet, Jasper. There is always a 
chance for repentance. When you acknowledge your folly, 
I might be induced to forgive you.” 

“ If that is the penalty required on my part for your 
favor, I shall never be forgiven in this world !” and he 
dropped into a chair, overcome with his strong emotions. 

“ You cannot stay under my roof, then, if that is your 
decision. By what mysterious power do you imagine that 
ring got in the errand girl’s satchel ?” questioned the major, 
white and red by turns with the rage burning within him. 

“I could not even guess, sir ! It might have been the 
merest accident that it fell in that fatal spot. Stranger 
things than that have happened ! Whatever the mystery 
is, I shall never rest, day or night, until it is explained. 
And Heaven forbid that it shall remain a mystery long. 
Whatever happens I shall always believe her innocent of 
theft.” 

He arose once more, and walked the floor. Then he 
went to his mother and put out his hand to her, saying, in 
a choked and husky voice : 

“Mother, I must leave you now, to seek a stopping 
place in some hotel. I cannot stay under my stepfather’s 
roof, and sit at the table with him, beneath the bann of his 
displeasure ; and he has said I cannot stay, too, with my 
present belief and practice about the young girl I have 
undertaken to defend ; and Helen has said I could no 
longer be her betrothed, unless I repented my folly and 


A MTSTEEI0U8 MUEDER. 


2G3 


turned my back upon this helpless orphan turning to his 
fiance with staring eyes, and a face white and rigid. 

She cowered under these burning words, as if half 
ashamed of her cruel upbraidings of the young girl, whom, it 
was possible, might be the victim to some fatal accident of 
the ring's slipping in the bag without the agency of hands 
at all. She stirred uneasily in her chair, and then asked 
Jasper to assist her to her room, for she could not see, and 
thought she must be on the verge of fainting ; and he car- 
ried her in his arms, a limp and swooning burden, followed 
by his mother and stepfather, to her room. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

A MYSTERIOUS MURDER. 

It was morning again. The sun was shining upon the 
blinding, dazzling whiteness of the newly fallen snow. 
Pansey was more quiet, but in a sort of stupor from the 
opiates which had been given to ease the racking pain in 
her head. Guy lay in the next room to her’s, himself 
unable to rise. He had been over-taxed bodily and men- 
tally, and came home last night with the same kind of a 
headache he had the night of Pansey’s arrest, and the excite* 
ment and strain upon his nerves, added to his business per- 
plexities, had overpowered him. 

The doctor was again at Pausey's bedside, while Miss 
Forbes had gone below to snatch a short sleep. The kind 
soul had watched all night, first over Pansey and then Guy, 
as he came from his evening’s additional work barely able 
to stand upon his feet, and Miss Forbes listened to his 


2G4 


A MYSTERIOUS MURDER. 


stifled groans, until she could no longer refrain from going 
to his relief. 

After the doctor came he administered a powerful seda- 
tive, which threw him into a restless sleep — a sleep which, in 
most instances, exhausts and weakens, instead of refreshing 
and strenthening. 

The doctor had been up nearly all the previous night 
himself, and needed to go to his room and get some rest. 
But he neglected no known duty to those who depended 
on his professional services, and as Pansey was quiet, and 
unconscious, he left her for a few minutes, and went into 
Guy’s room. He sat down by his bed and watched the 
nervous working of his troubled face ; the while wondering 
why he had never before noticed the resemblance between 
him and Pansey. It seemed so very marked now, that he 
wondered Mrs. Withingtou had never noticed it. 

“Leonard Hurlbert’s son and daughter, and I here 
administering to them in a professional way ! Am I 
losing my reason ? or is this reality ?” he asked himself, 
half aloud. But his audible reverie was cut short by the 
entrance of Mrs. W ithington, who wondered if the strange 
little doctor had a habit of talking to himself, with all his 
other peculiarities. 

He arose, and gave the tired woman his seat by the bed, 
and went over toward the window. Something arrested 
his attention beside the bureau, and he stopped to look at 
it more critically. It was the old chest of drawers which 
had once been Leonard Hurlbert’s mothers. He remem- 
bered having seen it before, but he made no remark to the 
anxious woman, who sat beside her nephew with sorrowful 
face and red, swollen eyes. He turned to the dressmaker, 
at length, and said he should be obliged to go home to get 
a little sleep, preparatory to going his daily rounds among 


A MYSTERIOUS MURDER. 


265 


his city patients, adding that he would come again in 
the evening." 

Is the poor boy going to have a fever, doctor ?" she 
asked. 

“ I trust not, madam. It is only the effects of over 
work, and the strain upon his nerves and brain which the 
dreadful occurrence of yesterday and the night before last 
has caused, I think. However, he must be carefully 
watched and nursed, till he is past danger of a fever." 

Mrs. Withington turned again to her sick nephew, and 
the doctor silently slipped out, and hastened home. 

Miss Forbes slept on so soundly that it would seem even 
an earthquake would fail to arouse her, and the weary 
dressmaker kept vigil alone over the two sick ones. She 
looked at the clock and saw that it was half after nine, 
and she had not yet eaten her breakfast. But it did not 
matter much, she thought, as she had not the least appetite ; 
so she sat still and watched the wearied Avorkings of Guy^s 
flushed face, and the nervous twitching of his eyelids. 
Ten o^clock sounded upon the stillness of the room, and 
then there was a ring at the door bell. Margaret ansv^ered 
it ; and in a few minutes the watcher heard her maid-of- 
all-work^s clumsy footsteps coming uj) the stairs. 

I suppose some of my customers have come for their 
costumes. I have not a dress finished, though," solilo- 
quized the modiste. 

Margaret stepped as softly as her clumsy feet would 
permit toward her mistress, and whispered, her eyes fixed 
upon the sleepeFs face : 

“ There^s two men down stairs — detectives, mam, I 
think they be — they want Mr. Guy Rumford,” 

“ Did you not tell them that he was sick jn bed, and 
unconscious, Margaret ?” 

No, mam ! I told them there was no such gintleman 
12 


266 


A MYSTEUIOUS MURDER. 


lived here, mam, sure ! I told ’em they must a made a 
mistake in the sirname, mam. Then they said, says they : 
‘We’ll have to search the house ; he’s tryin to hide from 
us !’ Plaze do came right down, mam ! The’re jest at the 
fut of the stairs, as impatient as wild bastes, mam ! I 
thought they was coming right up after me, when I told 
’em I would tell yez to come down and see ’em !” 
and Margaret cast a frightened look upon the uncon- 
scious Guy as she turned, hurriedly, and went down stairs 
to tell the waiting men that the lady of the house would be 
down directly. 

Mrs. Withingtou followed her domestic down stairs ; 
and in the hall encountered two formidable looking detec- 
tives. 

“There’s a young man here that’s a clerk in Dunn & 
Fairweather’s, mam. We want to see him !” 

“But the young man is sick in bed and unconscious !” 
gasped Mrs. Withingtou. 

“ You can’t play no games on us, mam. We’ve got to 
see him, if he is sick.” 

“ Will you have the kindness to tell me your business 
with him? Perhaps I can attend to it. I am his aunt !” 
and the dressmaker’s voice trembled with poorly concealed 
fright. 

“We’ve got to see him ourselves, I tell you, woman! 
sick or well, dead or alive ! so you may as well tell us 
where he is first as last 1” and the officer grew red in the 
face, and shook his fist menacingly by way of impressing 
his statement more forcibly upon the trembling woman. 
She did not know what to do. Miss Forbes was still 
sound asleep, and both Guy and Pansoy unconscious. She 
was just the same as alone, and even worse ; and utterly 
powerless to defend her sick nephew from these rough 


A MYSTERIOUS MURDER. 


267 


men. See him they would before they left the house, they 
told her. At length she spoke : 

“ Gentlemen, yon are police detectives, I see, by your 
uniform, and you say you must and Avill see my nephew ! 
Now I am alone and helpless to protect him, but I am tell- 
ing you the truth when I say that he is very ill in his bed 
ui)8tairs and under the influence of a sleeping potion given 
by the doctor. But I will lead the way to his room, and 
to satisfy yourselves, I ask that you follow me as still as 
you can, for I do not dare to think what the consequences 
would be, if he should return to consciousness and find de- 
tectives in his room.” 

This speech, with the addition of addressing them as 
gentlemen” to commence with, greatly mollified them, 
and they promised to make no unnecessary noise in ascend- 
ing the stairs or entering his room. 

She then led the way and they followed. They went 
up to the bed, and looked upon the unconscious young 
man, as he tossed around and muttered between his closed 
teeth some incoherent sentences. They turned away 
again, and consulted together aside for a few minutes. 

Then they motioned for the lady of the house to follow 
them down stairs. She did so. When they reached the 
lower hall again, they addressed her respectfully. 

Madame, one of us will have to stay in this house 
where the outside door can be watched, while the other 
goes back to report to the house of Dunn & Fairweather, as 
the young man upstairs, Guy Rumford, is ordered to bo 
arrested by Mr. Dunn for murder of the cashier and rob- 
bing of the safe in the very office he worked as assistant 
cashier.” 

She went to the reception-room, in which she had 
received the detective a few evenings previous for her 
errand girl, opened the door, and pointed to it for the offi- 


268 


A MYSTERIOUS MURDER. 


cer to take possession ; then she descended the basement 
stairs and bade Margaret hurry on her things and go for 
the city doctor. 

>|e ♦ ♦ ♦ * 

There was dire confusion in the banking-house of Dunn 
& Fairweather on this bright January morning. Major 
Dunn and his partner, and the whole force of clerks and 
employees, were assembled in the cashier’s office to behold 
the victim of a moat bnital murder. The first man on the 
scene was the janitor, who came through into the main 
room outside this private office, and found the door wide 
open, and knowing there must be something wrong, or the 
door would have been closed before the clerks arrived, he 
went inside, and there beheld a sight that made his hair 
stand erect. 

The cashier lay upon the floor, cold and lifeless, stained 
with blood, while a pool of the dark purple fluid on the 
hard wood floor beside him, told that a gory scene and a 
severe struggle had been enacted the night before The 
doors of the safe were also open, and a few scattering bills 
lay strewn around in the blood. 

The janitor at once raised the alarm, and coroners and 
detectives were sent for. Then messengers were dis- 
patched to both the partners’ houses, as it was too early 
yet for them to be at business. 

When they arrived upon the dreadful scene, the con- 
fusion among the horror-stricken witnesses beggars 
description. Major Dunn was the first to discover that 
the combination had been opened into the vaults of the 
safe without the use of explosive materials, and he there- 
fore was convinced that some one who knew how to open 
the safe, and who thoroughly understood the combination, 
must have been the robber and murderer. He picked 
up the blood-stained bills that were scattered around the 


A MYSTERIOUS MDRDFR. 


269 


body, some of which had lodged upon the door of the 
safe, and looked carefully around for traces of the instru- 
ments of death used upon the murdered man. He saw 
something partially concealed under the side of the safe, 
although it had been evidently thrown there in haste, 
without thought by the ruffian who had committed the 
deed. He picked it up, and saw that it was a fine linen 
handkerchief spattered with the life-blood of the victim 
upon the fioor. 

It had evidently been taken in haste to wipe the blood 
from the fingers of the murderer, as the spats indicated 
this fact very plainly. He took the handkerchief and 
brought it out to the light and passed it to a detective who 
had overlooked it himself in his examinations for some 
criminating proof to assist the jury in finding a verdict 
later on. The detective examined it, and seeing some 
mark in one corner, smoothed it out carefully and held it 
up to the senior partner. Guy” was worked in blue silk 
embroidery. Major Dunn showed it to Mr. Fairweather, 
and for the first time noticing that the assistant cashier 
was not among the other employees, at once made out a 
paper for the arrest of our hero. Then one of the officers 
returned from Mrs. Withington^s, bringing the intelligence 
with which the reader is familiar regarding his experience 
in the sad case. 

Both of the partners listened to the recital of the 
detective’s story; but each with widely different feelings 
regarding it. 

Major Dunn looked at Mr. Fairweather with a hard, cold 
sneer, his brows firmly knit ; which expression his partner 
very well knew how to interpret. 

^‘This, then, is the young man of your choice. One 
considered so far above the common level of clerks that he 


270 


A MYSTERIOUS MURDER. 


was invited to the grandest reception over tendered in 
America to an English peer.” 

There seemed to be no doubts in Major Dunn’s mind 
regarding Guy’s guilt, and he went as far as to say that 
there was no possibility of its being any one else who had 
murdered their cashier, whose body had just been removed 
from the office by the authority of the coroners. 

You speak as if already sure that the assistant cashier 
were the one guilty of this dreadful deed, Mr. Dunn 
spoke the junior partner, with a very grave face. 

“I don’t see how there can be much doubt about it 
under existing circumstances,” replied Mr. Dunn. There 
are only four of us who have keys to this ofiSce, and there 
is no evidence that the lock was picked, and then he was 
loft here, or came back here at my request, to assist the 
cashier in the evening after regular business hours.” 

Y'es ; but you forget that the door might possibly have 
been left open as the janitor found it this morning, sir.” 

“ Never ! Mr. Fairweather ! That is something I have 
never seen since Ave were in this place of business. I have 
absolutely forbidden it, and they both very well knew that 
if they left this door open, at any time, the consequences 
would be the discharge of the one who did it, and it made 
them all careful who had occasion to enter here. Then 
there Avas an unusually large deposit knoAvn to be in this 
safe last night. Who, but some one acquainted with the 
Avorkings of the combination, could have opened the safe 
without tools or explosives ?” 

Mr. Fairweather did not know ; and he said so. 

‘‘Then, again, there is the handkerchief, soaked in 
blood, marked with his first and very uncommon name,” 
continued Major Dunn, coughing vigorously, and getting 
quite red with excitement. “ He has a very high sound- 


A MYSTERIOUS MURDER. 


271 


ing name for a poor clerk, and I have sometimes thought 
it likely to be an assumed one.” 

Mr. Fairweather winced a little at the unexpected men- 
tion of the name he himself had been the cause of Guy’s 
assuming, and he began to fear that it had been a bad 
blunder on his part, as things had turned. But for a mo- 
ment he never suspected .Guy Hurlbert guilty of this foul 
crime. 

Well, Mr. Dunn, that handkerchief does not confirm 
his guilt, even if he is guilty ; and then the money and 
checks are yet to be found, you may arrest him on suspi- 
cion, but only a trial will settle the question of guilty or not 
guilty ; and even then by purely circumstantial evidence,” 
spoke the junior partner, with poorly concealed emotion. 

At this juncture the young collector entered the ofiice 
for the first time that morning, and seemed very much 
surprised and alarmed on seeing the confusion which still 
upset all business in this house. 

‘^You are rather late this morning,” spoke Mr. Fair- 
weather, looking somewhat sternly at the collector, who 
had always seemed to be his especial aversion among the 
employees. 

“Yes, sir,” promptly spoke the young man. “My 
father was very ill last night, and I went down to see him, 
and stayed up with him nearly all night, sir. This is why 
I am late. Has anything happened, sir, that all the clerks 
are in here, and the place in such confusion ?” 

The junior partner informed him Avhat had happened, 
and then asked : 

“Do you not live in the house with your father, then ? 
You spoke of going down to see him.” 

“No, sir. I live further uptown than he does. They 
are downtown a long way, and I don’t like there very 
well. Then my own mother is dead, and his present wife and 


272 


A MYSTERIOUS MURDER. 


1 don’t get along very well together, sir. So I've been 
away from home since I was thirteen years old ; but I go 
to see father and my half-brother sometimes, and when 
he is very sick he always sends for me,” and the young 
man went to the coat-room to deposit his things. 

At last order was restored, and the clerks went to their 
different desks to take up their tasks as best they could 
after such intense excitement. Jasper was not among the 
number now, as he had refused to enter his stepfather’s 
banking-house since that unhappy altercation the night 
after giving bail for Pansey. 

Major Dunn detailed two officers to keep a close watch 
upon the house in which Guy lay ill. 

Mr. Fairweather was appointed for the time being to 
the post of cashier, and he tried and partially succeeded in 
restoring order and system — or a semblance of it — to the 
day’s business. 

The collector came in, bringing checks and bonds, and 
took them to Mr. Fairweather. He had never been allowed 
to deposit money in the safe by the late cashier, and was 
not supposed to understand the combination. 

“You can deposit your collections, Furgeson ; I am just 
at present too busy to do it myself and he handed them 
back to the collector, who went directly to the safe, worked 
the combination like an expert, and deposited the bills in 
the vaults. Then he returned to the cashier ])ro tern, to 
receive his next orders. 

“ Suspicion is pretty strong on Guy Rumford in this 
murder case, sir, I see by the afternoon papers. That 
handerchief will go pretty strong against him, I suppose,” 
ventured the young man, who had stepped outside the 
bounds of his place in thus addressing his employer. 

“ What do you know about the handerchief, young 
man ? There is nothing said of it in the papers, and I 


“A' MYSTERIOUS MURDER." 


273 


have read them all,” and the junior partner turned, and 
looked sharply at the bewildered collector. 

— I — thought — I read it, sir — that — is, in one of the 
papers ; I don^t remember which one, now.” 

** I tell you I have read the account in every afternoon 
paper, and not one of them mentioned the handerchief. It 
was carefully locked up in less than five minutes after it 
was discovered, and long before you made your appearance 
in the office.” 

*^Well, if I didn’t see it in the paper, it may be I 
heard something said about it by some one here. I must 
have heard it mentioned, or I could not have known about 
it.” 

There came an excited knock on the door of the oflBce, 
and Mr. Fairweather told the collector to open it, at the 
same time noticing that he had turned very pale. He did 
as he was bidden, and when the door opened, Florence 
Fairweather fied past him, and rushing up to her father’s 
outstretched arms, fell into them, sobbing as if her heart 
would break. And yet no word had been spoken between 
them. 


12 * 


274 


THE TEERIBLE NEWS FLIES. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

TfiE TERRIBLE NEWS FLIES. 

The shocking murder was soon, in every household, the 
subject of comment, and Guy Rumford’s natne heralded 
over the entire country as the accused felon. 

The particulars, familiar to the readers, which were 
considered criminating circumstances, were emphasized by 
double exclamation points, in the headlines of the news- 
paper accounts, and newsboys shouted it at the tops of 
their lungs through the streets and public buildings. 

The little city doctor had read it, and then sat for half- 
an-hour thinking his own thoughts, which were soon 
resolved into action for the defense of his patient and the 
arrest of one whom he believed to be the felon. 

The queer old artist locksmith had read it, and then 
went immediately to the house of Dunn & Fairweather, 
and obtained an interview with the junior partner. 

Jasper Montrose had read it through and through 
again in his room at a hotel, his heart full of sorrow and 
sympathy for his friend, Guy ; and then he had put on his 
heavy fur-trimmed overcoat, and gone to his mother ; and 
after they had talked it over together, he went to Mrs. 
Withington’s house, and got permission to see the still 
unconscious and feeble young man, who was so blissfully 
ignorant of his unenviable notoriety. 

He sat by his bedside for a few minutes, as if in a 
troubled dream, and then, hearing Pansey’s faint and 
wearied moans in the next room, softly approached the 


THE TERRIBLE NEWS FLIES. 


275 


door and begged the tender-hearted spinster, who was 
watching beside her bed, to allow him to go in and see her. 
She bade him enter, and left the room herself, going into 
Guy^s. He gazed into the young girl’s face, the rigid pal- 
lor of which gave him a painful shock, while a moisture 
gathered in his pitying eyes. It gave him some relief to 
be permitted to sit beside her and take her burning little 
hand in his, as poor consolation as it affords to look upon 
a loved one raving with delirium. She called his name 
among her mumbled utterances. 

*‘Oh, Mr. Jasper! please give me the box,” and then 
turning her head to the wall : Oh, what a pretty ring ! 

and Mr. Jasper gave it to her I Oh, it was such a beauty. 
Auntie !” 

Great beads of perspiration stood upon Jasper’s brow, 
and he groaned aloud in his intense agony. A sudden 
movement from the delirious girl made him start and grow 
colorless. She was sitting erect, clinching the shining 
locks of her flowing hair. 

‘^It is under the pillow, somewhere ! that ring. Will 
you find it. Auntie, for me .P” and she clawed among the 
pillows. 

I will find it for you, Pansey, darling !” and Jasper 
looked under the ' pillows, thinking to pacify the raving 
girl. There lay the little gold locket ! He took it up, and 
went to the window, looking inside. Then he stole noise- 
lessly back to Pansey and pressed a passionate kiss upon her 
feverish lips, left the house, and went to his stepfather’s as 
fast as a hansom could carry him. 

The dressmaker tiptoed up to Guy’s room, and inquired 
if it was not time to give him his medicine. Miss Forbes 
took out her watch, and commenced to study, and count, 
and look very much puzzled. 


276 


THE TERRIBLE NEWS FLIES. 


Has your watch stopped. Miss Forbes?” questioned 
Mrs. Withington. 

Oh, no ! It never stops. I keep it half-an-hour fast ; 
for if I don’t, Fm sure to be late for everything. But I 
believe this has lost time, five minutes, and Fm trying to 
reckon just what time it is by the sun. Well, as near as I 
can calculate, it’s about four o’clock. Yes, it is time to 
give Guy his medicine. He’s a deal better than he was 
when I first waked up. But it’ll be dreadful when he 
knows all we do ; Fm afraid it will kill him outright, poor 
soul ! I hope the doctor ’ll be here when he really does 
come too. He might be able to save him from goin’ into 
fits or somethin’ of that sort !” 

“ Maybe the Lord will be merciful, and take him home 
to himself, before he knows the terrible disgrace that awaits 
him. It is doubtful if he ever has Lis right mind again !” 
groaned the distressed Mrs. Withington. 

It seems the doctor is lame, Mrs. Withington. I 
noticed he limped a good deal when he walked the floor 
last night in Pansey’s room. He seen somethin’ that was 
under the child’s pillow. It dropped down on to the floor 
when I sliook ’em up to make her head more comfortable. 
’Twas a locket — a gold locket — with miniatures into it. I 
said, says I, ^I think somethin’ fell down, doctor !’ and he 
picked it up, and limped over to the gaslight, and turned 
up the burner. Then he exclaimed, sort of frightened, 
like and says : ^ My God ! It is Leonard Hurlbert !’ and 
came back and looked into the girl’s face ; and said : 
‘ Yes, this must be Leonard’s daughter. Where have my 
eyes been all these months ?’ and then he said somethin’ 
about her bein’ a thief, and said it couldn’t be.” 

Mrs. Withington sprang to her feet, and stared at the 
spinster. 


THE TERRIBLE NEWS FLIES. 


277 


‘‘ Who can he be to know Leonard Hurlbert ? Where 
is the locket, Miss Forbes ?” 

Under her pillow again ; I put it back after the 
doctor had gone.” 

They v/ent to Pansey’s bed together, and gently moved 
the restless girl, and looked underneath the pillow. No 
locket was to be found. Then they took the patient out 
of the bed, and one of them held her carefully, while the 
other went over the entire bedding ; but, as is usual when 
a thing is gone, their search was fruitless. 

“ Where can it he f” gasped Miss Forbes. 

You are sure you put it back ?” questioned her 
friend. 

Yes ; I am sure I did. Maybe the doctor took it since, 
though.” 

Did you tell Guy about it. Miss Forbes ?” 

No, I didnT. 1 was afraid Twould make him worse ; 
and now I know what I do about this other dreadful affair, 
I’m powerful glad I held my tongue,” replied the spinster. 

“ This girl must be Olivia, then ! I remember Guy 
said he put a gold locket on her neck when the missionary 
took her away. Dear ! dear ! how dreadful it all is ! One 
of Leonard Hurlbert’s children accused of theft, and the 
other of murder and robbery. I feel as if I was in a terri- 
ble dream. What next will happen heaven only knows ! 
But neither of these dear children are guilty, their heavenly 
Father knows that ; and we know it ! but how is their 
innocence to be proven ?” and the terrified woman rocked 
herself to and fro in despair and wretchedness. 

“ There, don’t be so distressed, poor soul ! I believe 
the Lord ’ll bring it out all clear and plain. Sometimes 
he does, I suppose ! I wish he would make it clear about 
this little doctor that know'ed John and Leonard Hurlbert 
and their father and mother. Yes, and he said he k no wed 


278 


THE TERRIBLE NEWS FLIES. 


me, too ; but I was so changed he couldn’t have told he’d 
ever seen me before. Ah, I have it now, I guess! It 
must be that young man who used to entice John off 
into drinkin’ saloons, and was so intimate with him. But, 
then, he wasn’t lame as I know of, either ; but that was 
fivc-and-twenty years ago, and he may have got lame since 
then. Yes, and reformed too ! Yes, perhaps !” and the 
spinster wiped the tears on her bright bordered handker- 
chief. 

♦ * * 

Jasper went immediately to his mother’s room, on 
entering the house, in a great state of excitement. 

‘‘ What has happened, my son ? You look as pale as 
death itself. Has anything new occurred since you left 
here at three o’clock, my boy ?” 

Yes, mother ; a great deal has happened. Will you 
come with me into Mr. Dunn’s library ?” for Jasper had 
ceased to call him father since that night after the court. 

He led the way downstairs, and was followed by his 
mother, marveling all the way at her son’s singular excite- 
ment. 

Mother,” he exclaimed, going up to an oil painting, 
hanging over his step-father’s desk ; whose portrait is 
that ?” 

“ It is Mr. Dunn’s daughters, and our Helen’s mother, 
my son ! Why do you ask ?” 

For answer he took out the little gold locket that he 
had taken from under Pansey’s pillow, and touching the 
spring, handed it to her. She looked at the face, and- 
then at the one hanging upon the wall. 

It is Helen’s mother’s portrait. Where did you find 
it, my son ?” 

Under Pansey’s pillow, mother, about half-aii-hour 


THE TERRIBLE NEWS FLIES. 


279 


ago,” and both mother and son dropped upon the sofa 
together. 

Helen has appeared against her own sister, then, 
beyond doubt, and accused her of theft,” and the good 
lady groaned aloud, her heart l)urdened with grief. 

‘^Let me see ! let me see !” she spoke at length, medita- 
tively. “ Their name was Hurlbert. Yes ! Hurlbert ; and 
I have never dared to breathe it in Helenas presence or her 
grandfather’s. He forbade that, years ago, when he took 
home little Grade to our Chicago mansion, the first year of 
our marriage.” 

Gracie, did you say, mother ? Gracie ? You mean 
Helen, do you not ?” 

No, Jasper. Her name was Grace Helen ; and as 
they called her by the first name at home, Mr. Dunn 
would not allow her to go by it. He was afraid her 
brother might get a clue to her in some way.” 

“ Was there a brother, too, then ?” 

Yes ; the brother was a few years older than Helen ; 
and no one knew what became of him or this little sister, 
or cared, I fear. I am sure your father did not care, 
Jasper.” 

‘^Do not call Mr. Dunn my father I I can never 
recognize him as such again !” 

Shall I take the locket up and show it to Helen, and 
tell her where you found it, Jasper ?” 

Yes, mother. It must be all over between Helen and 
me now. I think even she herself will desire it to be so, 
after all that has happened. I have found out my own 
heart, at last. I love Pansey, the errand girl, with my 
whole being. I am, and have always been since I met her 
for the first time in the hallway, a helpless slave to this 
passion. Heaven knows I have fought it with all my 
strength. I have tried to be honorable to Helen, too ! 


280 


AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERT. 


But it was all as useless as to attempt stopping the speed 
of a locomotive by standing before it on the track. I 
have never spoken freely of my feelings before, mother, 
not even to you ; but I feel tliat I ought so to do now. I 
know your kind heart will not upbraid me for this weak- 
ness. No, it is not weakness, either ; it is strength. Do 
you think this cruel mystery of the ring will ever be 
explained, mother ? How could it have gotten in Pansey’s 
satchel ? Oh, fate is cruel ! cruel ! cruel !” repeated the 
almost frenzied Jasper, in despair. 

His mother tried her best to console him, directing his 
thoughts heavenward for hope and consolation in this dark 
hour ; and in a degree she succeeded. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

. AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERT. 

Before our hero had regained consciousness the little city 
doctor had proven to the firm of Dunn & Fairweather that 
another than the accused assistant cashier was the undoubted 
murderer and robber. It happened in this wise : 

On the night of the murder he was called to the house 
of one so-called Ferguson — who was none other than the 
^‘landlady’s husband,” where Mike Malony and his wife 
died — to dress his wounds, which were the result of an 
encounter of some kind that night. He came home in such 
a frightful condition that the woman he lived with was ter- 
rified, and as had been her habit of late, she called in the 
city doctor ; for which service she had always, from choice, 
paid two-thirds price, as she had said she was not dependent 


AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY. 


281 


upon charity for medical treatment. The man was so badly 
bruised that he lay on the bed in a stupor when the doctor 
arrived at the house, about two o^clock in the morning, lie 
examined and dressed his wounds, most of which were on 
the head and arms, and sat down by the bed to write a pre- 
scription, when he looked upon his patient casually, and 
observed a white handkerchief protruding from his pocket, 
with blood stains upon it. The woman was busy preparing 
some hot drink for the man, and was looking in another 
direction, and so the doctor pulled the handkerchief from 
his pocket, and as he did so, a key fell out. He picked it 
up, and wrapping the stained liandkerchief around it, put 
it in his pocket. Soon after this the man returned to con- 
sciousness, and at once put his hand to his pocket, with a 
nervous, hasty movement. He did not appear to find what 
he was searching for there, and so thrust his hand into his 
other pocket. He looked very anxious, and called to the 
woman to come to the bed, where they talked in a half 
whisper together. While they were thus engaged, the door 
opened, and a young man came in, walked up to the bed, 
without noticing the woman, except to roughly push her 
aside, and calling the man ‘Mad,^’ asked him to give him 
back his key and some money, as he had promised it to his 
girl,^^ apparently regardless of the fact that doctors have 
the sense of hearing and natural curiosity. Then the man 
explained that he had, in some way, lost the key ; but with- 
drew a large roll of bills from his pocket, inside of his coat, 
and counting out a certain sum, handed it to him. Tlie 
young man counted it over, and looked disappointed. Finally, 
he told his father he must have more — not less than five 
hundred dollars ; for his girl had been promised a seal-skin 
sack for a birthday gift. The man reluctantly gave him 
what he asked for ; and during further conversation which 
followed between father and son, the doctor learned that 


282 


AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERT. 


the young man was employed as collector for the banking- 
house of Dunn & Fairweather. 

He had suspected foul play from the first, and therefore 
felt justified in securing the stained handkerchief and key, 
which proved to be the chinching evidence to warrant his 
arrest and incarceration until called for trial. The artist 
locksmith was called upon, and he said he was ready to 
testify in court that young Ferguson had the key — found 
by the doctor in the man’s pocket — duplicated from one he 
brought to him a few weeks before. 

The above statements, as taken down from the doctor’s 
story, were listened to by Mrs. Withington and her grand- 
niece and nephew, with te irs of gratitude. They had so 
far recovered as to be told of their kinship ; and now the 
only link lacking to make their happiness complete, was 
their sister Grace ; for Jasper had withheld the knowledge 
he possessed from the invalids, lest the shock might be too 
severe for their weakened nerves. Pansey was still unable 
to leave her room, and Guy had not returned to business, 
and so the brother and sister and grand aunt, with the 
doctor and Miss Forbes, rehearsed their afflictions and prov- 
idential escapes from death and imprisonment together 
w'ith thankful hearts. Helen was still very ill, and there- 
fore it would be a long time before Pansey would be called 
to court for a trial. But she could scarcely believe Jasper 
when he assured her that the proud young lady would 
never bring the case into court. Sometimes it was all he 
could do to keep the secret he held from the innocent 
young girl he loved so tenderly ; but he bravely kept his 
resolution, till it was revealed in another and unexpected 
way to her. 

Mr. Dunn and Jasper have come to an understanding, 
and he is back at his stepfather’s house, who seems a good 
deal broken down and out of sorts. With the fidelity of a 


AN IMPOKTANT DISCOVERY. 


283 


brother, Jasper does all in his power to make the fast fail- 
ing Helen comfortable and cheerful ; but the stinging 
knowledge of what she has done to her only sister, con- 
stantly preys upon her, and she appears as if there was 
something still withheld, which gave her a deeper feeling 
of remorse. 

One morning, a few days later, when Gruy had gone out 
to take the fresh air (for Mr. Fairweather will not hear to 
his attempting business again until he is strong and well) 
Mrs. Withington and Pansey sat together in the latter’s 
room, speculating as to how that ring could have come in 
the satchel. Mrs. Withington literally broke down with 
sobs and nervousness wlien Pansey said dubiously that even 
if Miss Dunn did not compel her to go to court, some 
would always think her guilty, and that to rest under such 
implication w^ould be trouble enough to break her heart. 
‘‘But then,” she added, “when life — this hard life — is 
over, and it will not be long to that day, this sad mystery 
will all be cleared up.” 

As she ceased speaking, and with closed eyelids rested 
her head upon the back of her chair, Margaret dragged her 
clumsy feet up over the stairs, and entered the room. 

“There’s a gintlemen down stairs to see yez, Pansey; 
Misther Montrose, he says his name is. He says can yez go 
down stairs, or shall he come up to your room?” 

The invalid colored slightly at the mention of her 
lover’s name, and grew considerably excited. 

“Can I go down. Auntie, do you think, without 
danger?” 

“Perhaps so; if Margaret assists you. I only wish I 
was strong enough to help you down ; but I feel so miser- 
able that I scarcely think it best for the young man to 
come up here. I fear I should break down altogether if I 
should see him to-day.” 


284 


AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY. 


Margaret did her best for a support, and Pausey 
reached the lower floor in safety. With a silent press of 
both her trembling hands Jasper received the pale and agi- 
tated girl. 

“ Pansey, my darling, can you go with me in a carriage 
to my house and see Miss Helen ? she has sent me for you, 
dearest.” 

^‘For me? Sent for me, did you say ?” 

^^Yes, Pansey, for you !” 

Is she ill, Mr. Jasper ? that is, I mean is she worse 
than she has been of late ?” 

Yes, dear ; she is dying, we fear, and says she cannot 
until she sees you. Can you come with me, Pansey ?” 

Oh, yes ! I must go to her, if she is dying, and wants 
to see me. Yes ; I must go !” 

She called Margaret, and sent her up to bear the tidings 
to her aunt, and bring down her wraps and hat. When 
she was ready, Jasper carried her in his arms and put her 
in the hansom, which was waiting at the door, and they 
were driven to the Dunn mansion. 

* * * iK * 

When Pansey and Jasper entered Helenas room. Major 
Dunn and his wife and her physician were sitting beside 
her luxurious couch. She was as white as the snowy lace 
spread upon which her beautiful hand rested. There was 
a glassy look in her lustrous eyes, and the air Was heavy 
with the odor of roses and violets. This scene was as 
indelibly impressed on Pansey’s and Jasper’s brains as if 
written with a pen of iron and the point of a diamond. 
She threw aside her wraps and hat, and was led, trembling 
and pale, to the dying girl’s bedside. Jasper approached 
nearer, and putting his hand upon her forehead, said : 

Helen, here is little Pansey, come to see you.” 

She raised herself in the bed, with the assistance of the 


AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY. 


285 


doctor and Jasper, and then motioned for the former to 
retire from the room. 

Mrs. Dunn asked if she wished to be entirely alone 
with Pansey ? and she replied in a hollow voice : 

‘*No ! no ! I want you all to hear. Pansey, you are my 
owm sister. I know it all, now.” 

Pansey shook as if swayed by a tempest, with surprise 
and fright. 

“ Then Guy is your brother, too !” and every one in 
that room seemed paralyzed with this startling announce- 
ment. Don’t you want to see him, too, sister Helen ?” 

Yes — later — but I — have — something to say — to you 
— all — here, — first. Give — me — water and — smelling salts, 
Jasper.” 

They were brought and applied to her nostrils, and a 
spoonful of brandy, in place of the water, given her. 

Bring me that ring, Jasper, and send at once for 
brother Guy — if he is my brother,” and her eyes looked 
strangely bright and large, shining from the marble frame- 
work of her face. Jasper sent the despatch to Guy, and 
brought the ring to Helen. 

“ I put this — ring — in — Pansey’s satchel ! Do you — all 
— hear — me ? I did it — because I was jealous of her. 
May — God — forgive me! I did it ! do you all hear 91* she 
repeated, slowly, falling back exhausted upon her couch ; 
and then asked for more brandy. 

The shock was so terrible to all her listeners that none 
of them appeared to have strength to move. But Jasper - 
was the first to grant Helen’s request for brandy, which he 
gave her in a spoon, with as steady a liand as he could 
command. Then she took the ring in her wasted hand, 
trembling with weakness and agitation, and held it out to 
Pansey. There, take it little sister, and Jasper, end be 
happy !” and Jasper’s dream flashed through his b.ain in 
an instant. 


28G BROTHERLY AND SISTERLY CONFIDENCES. 

She laid back upon her pillow, turned her bend to the 
wall, drew a deep breath, and life was all over for Grace 
Helen Hurlbert. And just then Guy entered upon the 
scene of death, too late to speak one word to the sister he 
had so longed to find. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

BROTHERLY AND SISTERLY CONFIDENCES. 

The terrible revelation made by Helen Hurlbert nearly 
unmanned Guy ; while Pansey wept for days and niglits, 
refusing to be comforted. 

Guy had toiled and waited and hoped against hope that 
some day he should see his dear sister Grace — the sister 
Grace of his boyhood, pure, innocent and unselfish ; a sister 
to be loved, honored and adored. How had his long cher- 
ished idol crumbled into dust after all these years of patient 
waiting! Nothing can be more crushing to our hopes than 
the knowledge that our near kindred have proved unworthy 
of our devotion. Grace was the one sister he had especially 
longed to find. In a degree, the unexpected discovery of 
his baby sister, Olivia, had filled the aching void in his 
great, unselfish heart ; but the circumstances connected 
with that discovery were so distressing, and they were all 
so harrassed with distracting doubts and fears just at that 
time, that her identily seemed more like a dream than 
reality. How often it is the case that when we finally reach 
the object for which we have striven years, we only find it to 
lose it the next instant ; or else we are so worn and weary 
with the delay, that it is as nothing to us I 


BROTHERLY AND SISTERLY CONFIDENCES. 287 

Mrs. Withington, with her grand nephew and niece, 
came home from the sad and hopeless burial of Helen, their 
hearts filled to overflowing with grief. They sat down to 
their evening meal silently. Neither Guy or Pansey could 
taste the tempting dishes Margaret had prepared for them 
with such thoughtful care. 

Mrs. Withington alone made an attempt to reward her 
cook by eating a few morsels from each dish, and drinking 
her coffee. 

Brother and sister made a brave effort to force back the 
tears that sprang unbidden to their eyes, and choked their 
utterance. For their dear aunt’s sake they conquered the 
strong desire in both their hearts to rush into each other’s 
arms, and give way to the storm of grief that was surging 
within them. 

Guy was the fii-st to speak, after they had quit the table 
and repaired to the little sewing-room, where they had so 
often talked over family affairs when Olivia was known 
only as the dressmaker’s errand girl ; although as dear, 
almost, to their hearts then as now. 

I can never forgive myself. Auntie dear, for my wicked 
speech about Helen that night after the Vanderwater 
reception. How little we know what daggers our words 
may prove, to pierce us through and through when it is too 
late to recall them. Oh, why are the things we wish most 
to know hidden from us ? When I think that all these 
months I have been in the employ of my own grandfather, 
associated intimately with one sister, and often seeing and 
speaking with the other, it seems as if it must all be a dream 
and it is dreadfully disappointing.” 

At this juncture he arose, and fled quickly from the 
room, and to his own chamber, as he had done on the night 
Pansey was taken away to the station-house. He was 
utterly helpless to control his emotions, and in the privacy 


288 


BROTHERLY AND SJSTERLY CONFIDENCES. 


of his room he gave vent to such a tempest of grief as only 
those strong natures, like his, can comprehend. 

Pansey looked after him, with her great sympathetic 
eyes, and when she heard his footstep upon the last stair, 
burst into an uncontrollable fit of weeping herself. 

Mrs. Withington took her in her arms, and tried to 
soothe her, as she would have pacified an infant. 

“ Oh, it is all so dreadful. Auntie ! I would rather never 
have known how that ring came in the satchel. I would 
rather have taken the blame, and been sent to prison, even, 
than to have known that my own sister had done such a 
terrible thing. So long as I was not guilty I could have 
borne my sentence, no matter how severe, better than 
tins r 

Sobs shook her frame like convulsions, and her aunt 
was so terrified at her vehemence, that she called Margaret 
to go for the city doctor, fearing she might work herself 
into a frenzy of madness, from which it would be impos- 
sible to call her back to reason and hope. 

On hearing this order from her aunt to Margaret, she 
struggled to regain her self control, and begged that Mrs. 
Withington would not send for the doctor. 

‘‘I ^oill be more calm. Auntie, dear, for your sake. It 
was very wrong of me to give way to my feelings. Some- 
time, I hope, when I get older, I shall learn self-control, as 
you have learned it, and as you always exercise it, when 
great trouble comes upon you.” 

At this juncture, fortunately for both these sorrowful 
hearts. Miss Forbes appeared at the workroom door, and 
asked if she might come in. 

She had many a time before been a welcome visitor, 
but never more so than now. She always brought with 
her the balm of consolation when her friends were in trou- 
ble ; and now her dear, homely face seemed to the weeping 


BEOTHEELY AND 8I8TEELY CONFIDENCES. 


289 


aunt and grandniece like a burst of sunshine. They half 
forgot their sorrow, and greeted their visitor with kisses 
and embraces, which caused the spinster’s heart to leap for 
joy. Nothing was so grateful to Miss Forbes’ heart as 
appreciation from those she loved. It was meat and drink 
for her to feel that she was necessary to some one’s happi- 
ness, and that her presence could cause their faces to light 
with pleasure. She had won her way to the hearts and 
confidence of this entire household, and since she had 
known them, her own life had seemed more worth the liv- 
ing. 

On this occasion, she very adroitly refrained from 
alluding to the sad event which had so unstrung her 
friends, but commenced at once to speak of the trip she 
jiroposed taking the ensuing summer, and in which she 
had decided they all must join. The good soul hud noticed 
the errand girl’s tear-stained cheeks, and evident effort at 
self-control, and knew at once that any allusion on lier 
part to Helen’s dying confession, wdlild only open afresh 
the bleeding wound in Pansey’s heart. All this planning 
for a summer journey was impromptu, born of her desire 
to divert the two sorrow-stricken ones thoughts into a 
more healthy channel. 

“ Where is Mr. Guy, Pansey ? Olivia, I should have 
said,” inquired the spinster, with as steady a voice as she 
could command, for the recollections that the city doctor 
had awakened within her of withered and blasted hopes 
had greatly unnerved the lonely woman. She stifled every 
appearance of emotion, having practiced self-control until 
it liad become second nature. It was all for the sake of 
her afflicted friends that she left her room that night, and 
came alone to their humble honae to talk about a summer 
sojourn at Mount Deseyt. She had pot so much as thought 
of the subject half^an-hqur befqre she eptered the little 
13 


290 


BROTHERLY AND SISTERLY CONFIDENCES. 


sewing-room. She thought — and rightly, as it proved — 
that discussing this subject (so foreign to their thoughts of 
late), would divert their minds from the grief that seemed 
consuming the hearts of brother and sister. 

^‘Brother Guy is up in his room, I think. Miss 
Forbes, replied Olivia in a trembling voice. Shall I 
call him ?” 

^‘1 wish you would. I want to talk over my plans for 
next summer with you altogether. IVe made up my mind 
that I shall take you all along with me down to Mount 
Desert,” answered the spinster, curtly. 

Olivia went to call Guy, and Mrs. Witliington replied to 
Miss Forbes’ last assertion that she should ‘‘take them all 
along.” 

“ I think that will be altogether to much of a burden, 
my good friend and added, “ Mount Desert is such a fash- 
ionable society place, it seems to me we should be out of 
place there.” 

“ I should like to know if we can’t be as fashionable as 
the rest of ’em, Mrs. Withingtou ?” 

“Perhaps you can ; but Pansey and I cannot. We have 
not the requisite wardrobes. Miss Forbes,” replied the 
dressmaker, with a sort of forced smile playing over her 
pale and wrinkled face. 

“ That may be ; but it won’t take long to have suitable 
clothes made. The stuff won’t cost such a terrible sight ; 
and you can make ’em yourself, for that matter. You 
ought to be able to ; you’ve rigged out a good many other 
women to shine in summer resort hotels, that’s certain. It 
seems to me, Olivia — I declare, it is the hardest work for me 
to remember her new nanie — has been gone a good while. I 
guess Mr. Guy’s called her in his room said the spinster 
reflectively. 

Meanwhile, brother and sister were sitting side by sid.o 


BROTHERLY AND SISTERLY CONFIDENCES, 291 

in Gny’s room, together shedding the bitter tears of regret 
and unhappiness. Guy had drawn her into his room as he 
opened the door in answer to her timid rap. It seemed 
such a relief to them both to be where the anxious eyes of 
their aunt could not watch their grief, and be made unhappy 
by it. 

But, brother Guy, I have not yet told you what I came 
up here for,^^ spoke Pansey, at length, drying her tears, and 
choking back the sobs as best she could. “ Miss Forbes is 
down in the sewing-room, waiting to see you. Can you 
not come down with me, brother, dear ?” 

“ Presently, sister. But I wish to speak with you first, 
dear, about a more important matter. I trust you will not 
think me abrupt if I ask you a very delicate question, Pan- 
sey, and Guy put his arm gently around her slender waist, 
and drew her close to his heart. “ May I speak, sister 

Olivia opened her round eyes wide with wonder at his 
strange question, and bade him tell her what was in his 
mind, adding that he was her rightful adviser. 

Pansey, child, do you love Jasper Montrose ? That is, 
so far as you know your own heart ?” 

At this straightforward question, the young girl blushed 
crimson, and her heart gave a sudden throb, which startled 
Guy at its violence. Then the color all forsook her beauti- 
ful face, and her whole frame trembled with a strange and 
unconquerable emotion.” 

Oh, dear brother Guy, must I answer that question 
to-night — now — I mean ?” 

“ Do not be afraid to confide in me, dear child. If you 
do love him, it is nothing you need feel shy about with 
me, your brother and protector. I wish to know the 
truth ; because, dear, he asked me a few days before sister 
Helen died, if I, as your protector and friend — not knowing 
then that I was your brother — was willing that he should 


292 


BROTHEELY AND SISTERLY CONFIDENCES. 


try to win your love, with the hope that some day you 
would be his wife.” 

Oh, brother, dear, I am afraid I do love Jasper ! But 
he was so kind to me when I was in that dreadful prison, 
and has always done so much for me, ever since that first 
day I saw him in grandfather’s house, when I was a poor, 
unknown errand girl. How can I help caring for him, 
Guy ? I try so hard not to ; but the more I try, the less 
able I am to forget him,” and Pansey hid her face upon 
her brother’s shoulder, as if guilty of some foolishness that 
she ought to crush out of her heart. 

Why, my dear sister. I do not wish you to cease 
loving Jasper Montrose. I only wanted to learn your real 
sentiments regarding him. Continue loving him, if you 
choose. You could scarcely bestow your affections upon a 
more worthy young man than he has proved himself to be. 
I am sure he tried bravely to be honorable, and do what 
was right by sister Helen. I cannot help thinking that all 
would have been different if our good and conscientious 
aunt down stairs had trained her, instead of grandfather 
Dunn. But let us not dwell longer on that unhappy 
subject. Now that I have asked, and you have sincerely 
answered my question, let us go down to Miss Forbes, who 
I fear is already impatient for our appearance in the 
sewing-room.” And here brother and sister went down 
stairs together. 

When they reached the sewing-room door, a messenger 
boy rang the bell, and Guy, being so near, opened the 
door. 

The lad bore a note for Pansey, which he delivered to 
Guy, saying there was not to be a return answer by him. 

On receiving this message from her brother’s hand, 
which she noticed shook a little as it touched hers, her 
heart beat tumultuously, and her voice sounded tremulously 


BROTHERLY AND SISTERLY CONFIDENCES. 


293 


ill Guy’s ears, as she told him that she would go to her 
own room, and read it there, while he went in to Miss 
Forbes and his aunt. She at once surmised that this 
message was from Jasper Montrose. As soon as she entered 
her chamber she dropped into the little rocker, beside the 
table on which the lamp stood, and with nervous haste, 
tore open the envelope, and read as follows : 

My darling Pansey : 

Several days ago I asked permission of Guy Rumford 
(who has proved to be your brother) to try and win your 
love, which I now know is the fondest hope of my life, I 
can tell you my feelings and thoughts better in writing 
than by word of mouth, just now, and considering the 
terrible shock we have both just passed, it seems more 
fitting that this silent messenger should bear you the 
burden of my heart, than that I myself should intrude upon 
the sacred ness of your family’s grief, so soon after the blow 
has fallen. 

I tried to wait, dearest, until a proper time for calling 
upon you and the others, before telling you what was burn- 
ing in my heart for utterance ; but the delay seemed 
impossible, and I ventured upon your dear, generous and 
sympathetic nature, far enough to tell you my love in this 
way. May I hope that you will try and learn to return my 
love ? I dare not think what the consequences of your 
refusal to grant my prayer would be. It seems now, as if 
1 could not endure life without your precious presence to 
sweeten and bless it. 

I thought once, dearest, that I loved your sister, whom 
we have together just followed to Greenwood. I know 
now that it was a boyish impulse, born from our having 
been brought up together from early childhood. The first 
real passion that ever thrilled my being was for you. 


294 : BROTHERLY AND SISTERLY CONFIDENCES. 

Pansey, dear, can you understand me ? Perhaps you are too 
young and inexperienced to fully comprehend my mean- 
ing, or return my ardent love ; but will you try, ray pre- 
cious treasure, to give me the hope that some day I shall 
win your heart ? If I am only assured of this, I can wait 
patiently and bravely your time. I know that you are too 
good and true and noble to consent to be my wife, unless 
you can give me your whole heart with yourself. If you 
do not fully understand my meaning, go to your brother 
Guy, and he may be able to explain it to you more clearly, 
and ho will give you good advice. I would sooner die than 
take any unlawful advantage of your trusting, innocent 
heart, and I would not address these words of love to you 
now unless I had the permission of your brother and natu- 
ral protector. 

Think over all I have said to you in this letter ; think 
as calmly and understandingly as you can, and do not allow 
a sense of gratitude for what little service I rendered you 
when in trouble, to influence your decision. But, let me 
add, I shall not cease to hope and pray that you will try very 
hard to give me the love I so much crave. I should have 
told you what was in ray heart several months ago, were it 
not for the unfortunate engagement with your sister, and 
I felt that until she released me with her own free will, I 
was bound to keep my promise, even though it broke my 
heart and wrecked my life. 

And new, dearest heart, good-night. May God keep 
you in safety from every harm, and help you to decide 
rightly and according to the impulse of your true and 
generous heart. 

Your loving and ever faithful, 

Jasper. 

After reading this lengthy effusion over three times, 


pansey’s answer. 


295 


with continually increasing interest, and a throbbing 
heart, which plead the young man^s cause better than the 
head he had asked her to use in the decision of his fate, 
she kissed the closely written pages, slipped it under her 
pillow, bathed her tearful eyes in cold water, and went 
down to join the others in the sewing-room. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 
pansey’s answer. 

The next day our heroine was too ill to leave her room, 
and it was only by a superhuman effort that she arose and 
dressed herself. What she had gone through for the past 
few weeks was enough to upset the strongest nerves. Per- 
haps if Jasper had realized how unstrung she was, he 
would have waited longer before sending her that note, so 
full of passion and pathos. But youthful love is so impul- 
sive and hard to control, that he had started it on its way 
before he gave himself time to reflect regarding the conse- 
quences of his impetuosity and abrupt confession upon the 
young girl he so idolized. But as Pansey has freely and 
wholly forgiven him for this rash act, let us, kind reader, 
emulate her example. 

She refused to see even Miss Forbes that day, who came 
down to renew her unfinished and oft interrupted conver- 
sation regarding a summer vacation trip. The young girl 
was very unlike her former self, the disappointed spinster 
thought; but she kept her own counsel as to the cause — or 
causes — of this unnatural state. She knew nothing what- 
ever about the note from Jasper. Pansey had kept this 


296 


pansey’s answer. 


secret from all but her brother, who had promised to talk 
the subject over with her when he returned home that 
evening. 

Mrs. Withington carried her up all the dainties she 
could produce, for which Margaret racked her brain in the 
cuisine art ; but it was only to reward her aunt’s and the 
cook’s kindness that she tasted of them. 

“ Is your swallow afther growin’ up, child, that ycz 
can’t ate a solid mouthful of anything ?” asked the disap- 
pointed maid-of-all-work, as she took away the tray, which 
was quite as heavy as when she had set it down before the 
invalid. 

“I trust not, Margaret,” sighed Olivia; ^^but I feel too 
ill to eat. Auntie and you are so kind to prepare me all 
these dainties, that I feel as if it looked ungrateful in me 
not to eat some of them.” 

‘^Tbe preparin’ of ’em is a small mather. Miss Olivia,” 
returned Margaret, respectfully. It’s only concerned for 
yerself that lam.” And the good soul bore the tray in her 
red and trembling hands back to the kitchen, with a dis- 
appointed face, and then went into the sewing-room to tell 
her mistress her fears regarding the young girl upstairs. 

The dressmaker quite agreed with her maid that it was 
best to consult Guy about sending for the city doctor 
again. She had already spoken to her grandniece about 
the necessity of medical advice ; but she had begged her to 
do nothing of the kind, saying that all she needed was 
quiet and time to think — “ A very bad notion,” the 
anxious woman declared it to be on Olivia’s part. 

But with all the girl’s thinking, she could not arrive at 
any definite purpose ; or even come to an understanding with 
herself. Human hearts and emotions are as inconsistent as 
they are ungovernable, sometimes. All the variable and 
remarkable happenings of the past month danced and 


PANSEy’s AN6WER. 297 

pirouetted together in hopeless confusion before her dazed 
brain. 

She arose cautiously to her unsteady feet, and crept 
slowly to the window, through which the afternoon sun was 
slanting its welcome rays. Why need all one^s troubles 
be heaped upon them at once ?” soliloquized our heroine. 
And yet, was this last surprise, whicli had seemed to puzzle 
her brain more than all the rest, a trouble? If she had con- 
sulted her heart, instead of her head, and paid heed to its 
dictates, her “trouble” might have proved less burden- 
some. But frail humanity has ever carried burdens that 
were imaginary, when they should have been cast, accord- 
ing to the Divine command, “ upon the Lord.” 

She began to grow impatient for evening, and the return 
of her brotlier. Somehow she felt, silly little puss, that he 
was the only being who could settle the knotty question 
Jasper had propounded in that note, satisfactorily and 
safely. But if he had decided averse to her own feelings ! 
What then ? This thought crossed her mind as she sat 
there looking toward the southwestern sky and the slowly 
sinking sun. And then there seemed to be a sudden revul- 
sion of desire for Guy^s decree in this delicate subject of 
the heart. Absorbed in thought, she still sat watching the 
sun, till he made his bow and disappeared below the golden 
glory of the winter sky. 

“ It will not be right to show even my brother, Jasper’s 
letter. No ! I must not do it. And yet I wish I was sure 
that what he wrote me was all right and proper. I wonder 
if that is the way other men ask the one’s they love to marry 
them.” Thus, she soliloquized, while her eyes seemed 
riveted upon the fading splendor of the western sky. 

“ The only way for me to do now, I see plainly, is to 
pray for wisdom and courage to answer him aright ; unless 
the Lord directs my steps, it is useless to move. He will 
13 * 


298 


pansey’s answer. 


not direct them, unless I ask Him ; and I must be willing 
that His will, and not mine, shall be done !” she whispered, 
softly, to herself, and then dropped upon her knees, as she 
had done in the old tenement beside Mrs. Malony’s death- 
bed ; and later, in her cell at the station-house, calling 
fervently upon Almighty help and strength. 

As in those other extremities, so now, she arose from 
her knees, assured of the Divine benediction. She no 
longer harbored doubts of Jasper’s sincerity; she was no 
longer wavering as to her own affection for, and confidence 
in him. She longed to see him, and reveal all that was in 
her heart ; to confide in him, and weep out her sorrows 
upon his breast. But her mercies now so loomed up before 
her mind, that her troubles seemed light and easy to bear. 
What a difference the grace of Christ the Lord can make 
in our trials ! ** Cast thy burden on the Lord and He will 
sustain thee.” 

Olivia found this promise trae, as thousands of others 
have, and will, till the end of all things shall come. 

The young girl arose and left the window, went to her 
table, and lighted the tiny lamp which had done service 
ever since she came to her grand aunt’s house, took out her 
small writing-desk, and sat down to reply to her lover’s 
letter. 

She had gotten thus far ; but what should she do next ? 
How commence it ? How tell him, on paper, what was in 
her heart ? 

She dipped the pen in her inkstand, and then held it, 
waiting for an inspiration, until the ink had dried. Cupid 
seems to be a very stupid muse when he attempts to direct 
the pen in some hands. Again she dipped her pen, and 
again held it in her small tapering fingers until the purple 
fluid dried. The third time she had made up her mind 
what she would write. Patient reader, if you will look 


PANSEY'8 ANSWER. 


299 


with me over the writer’s shoulder, there will be no neces- 
sity for my repeating her words. 

Dearest Friend Jasper : Come to me to-morrow 
evening, and I will tell you all. I know now that I feel 
toward you as you desire I should. 

Ever your loving 

Pansey. 

Are you dissappointed at her feeble answer ? Not so 
was the recipient of the precious missive — if it can be dig- 
nified by that name — the next morning when the postman 
handed it in at the window, while the Dunn family were 
seated at the breakfast table. Those few cljildish confi- 
dential words gave him greater joy than anything he had 
ever before received in written form. 

It was a difficult matter for the impetuous young man 
to wait until evening, and he went through the streets that 
day humming, softly, the old song : 

“ ’Tis evening brings my heart to thee.** 

Pansey had told Guy who her message was from, and 
its purport ; but said nothing about his reading it. She 
received no chiding from her noble brother, when she told 
him the answer she had made to her lover’s lengthy epis- 
tle. On the contrary, he told the much excited girl that 
he was glad she had thus allowed her heart to govern her 
actions ; and that the young man would receive a hearty 
welcome from him, and the assurance of his consent, when 
he came that evening. 

Over their meeting, and its happy results to them both, 
we will draw the cu’ '^ain of privacy, and turn our attention 
to a startling event which occurred three months later. 


300 


A SURPRISING CONFESSION. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

A SURPRISING CONFESSION. 

Three months have come and gone since the scenes 
narrated in the last chapter took place. On this particular 
day the morning papers contained a very sensational article. 
The newsboys, glad of something exciting enough to increase 
their sales tenfold, shrieked at the top of their lungs, 
through the streets and public conveyances : 

Great confession of George Ferguson, the murderer. 
Oh, extra ! ho, extra !” 

Doors and Avindows flew open in private dwellings and 
places of business. Major Dunn and Mr. Fairweather, 
Guy and Jasper, and the little city doctor, were all eagerly 
scanning the papers to find the one article for which they 
had purchased them. Every headline ended with half a 
dozen exclamation points. Correspondents were telegraph- 
ing this confession to their papers all over the country, and 
the excitement beggared description. 

The real murder of the cashier of the house of Dunn & 
Fairweather had been tried, found guilty, and was in the 
Tombs awaiting his sentence, while his son lay in jail under 
conviction of having been his father’s accomplice in the 
foul crime. 

THE CONFESSION. 

As I am about to stand before my judge at a higher 
tribunal, I am at last moved to make a confession of my 
♦real name ; and in giving the world a true statement of the 
cause of the crime, I hope to lessen the Aveight of guilt 


A 8UKPKISING CONFESSION. 


301 


resting on my unfortan;ite son in the eyes of the com- 
munity. My bona fide name is William JDunn. I am the 
son of Major Henry Dunn, of the banking-house of Dunn 
& Fairweather, by his first wife. He is now living with 
his third, as I have learned since my return to America. 
My father, doubtless, still supposes me in Australia, where 
he sent me years ago, after I had committed a youthful 
Cl ime, for which he paid, to prevent exposure and imprison- 
ment. My father has always been a harsh and unrelenting 
man, and when I came back to this country after a banish- 
ment of twenty years, I dare not go to him and ask for for- 
giveness ; and supposing him to still be in Chicago, I came 
to New York city, and here married the woman who was 
the mother of my unfortunate sou. She has since died, 
and I have lived in criminal relations with the woman who 
was called my wife at the time of my arrest. I have two 
children born out of wedlock by this woman. After having 
lived here three years, I discovered that my father was the 
senior partner of the firm above alluded to, and I determined 
to get my son in the house, that he eventually might secure 
some of my father’s vast wealth. 

At my request, my son was successful in procuring 
Guy Eumford’s keys, one day when he had stepped from 
his desk and left them on a ring with other keys. 

I also instructed him to learn the combination, which, 
with no common shrewdness and tact, he accomplished. 
He had the keys duplicated, and afterward laid them 
back upon the assistant cashier’s desk, in his absence. 

“ I selected a dark and stormy night, met my son by 
appointment outside of the tenement in which I lived, and 
we went together to the bank about midnight. Neither of 
us knew that the cashier had stayed over after business 
hours, and we entered the bank and proceeded at once to- 
his oflBce. There was no one there when we entered, and 


302 


A SURPRISING CONFESSION. 


the gas was still burning very low by the safe. There was 
a linen handkerchief on the assistant cashier^s desk, and 
my son picked it up and saw that it was marked ‘^Guy.’’ 
I suggested that it would be well to leave this handker- 
chief near the safe, that the guilt might be fastened on 
that young man, and avert all suspicion from my son. I 
held it in my hand when we went over to the safe together, 
and my son commenced to work the combination. At 
that moment, the cashier came from the coat-room, as I 
suppose, to turn out the gas before leaving the building ; 
and finding us there, attempted resistance. I had no 
thought of committing murder Avhen I entered the build- 
ing, God knows ; but what was I to do ? Either I must 
use the weapon of defense I had, and kill him, or be 
exposed, and finally imprisoned, as well as my son. I 
thought it best to run my chances of being caught as a 
murderer, rather than stand the sure detection if I let the 
cashier go. And so it was that I committed the terrible 
deed. 

I do not confess with any expectations of mercy from 
the judge in my sentence to-morrow, but that my son may 
not bear his father’s and largest share of the blame ; and 
also in the hope that his sentence, and the justice of law, 
may be tempered with mercy, in consideration of these 
facts. More than a year ago, I attempted to enter my 
father’s house, when I learned he was abroad, and I knew 
there was only his step-son at home to defend his family ; 
but 1 was prevented from effecting my purpose by that 
young man’s giving the alarm to the police. But I escaped 
their vigilance, and was never found out in that crime. 

** The above is a truthful confession of the condemned 
criminal, 

William Dunn, alias 
George Fergurson.' 


EFFECTS OF THE SHOOK. 


soa 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

EFFECTS OF THE SHOCK. 

Major Dunn was taken to liis residence the night after 
the murderer’s published confession, striken and helpless. 
Repeated nervous shocks had at last brought the determined 
and self-willed man to death’s door, and he was forced to 
surrender, and acknowledge himself broken in health and 
spirits. All his domestic plans hud failed, except, indeed, 
that he had made choice of an excellent woman for his 
third wife. The one grandchild whom he doted upon, 
had brought only sorrow and anxiety, while the other two 
despised ones, had proved to be the true gold, refined in the 
crucible of poverty and affliction. 

He had endeavored to thwart his step-son in his desire 
to study art, and had crippled him by withholding his 
money and compelling him to delve in a banking-house 
office to no purpose ; he had robbed his wife of her rightful 
dower, and used it to amass a fortune which would now be 
of no benefit to himself ; he had banished his daughter, 
and broken her heart with cruelty ; and, but for the mercy 
of the great and beneficent Father above, all her children 
would have perished through his neglect. And last of all, 
his only son had proved a felon and murderer. It was, 
indeed, a terrible panorama to pass in review before him in 
his last hours on earth. 

His faithful wife and aggrieved step-son stood by his 
bedside, and listened to his agonized self-upbraiding with 
saddened hearts, and vainly attempted to offer consolation. 


30i 


EFFECTS OF THE SHOCK. 


I have been hard and cruel to you my patient, uncom- 
plaining wife, and I have wronged you, my son. Do you 
forgive me ?” he moaned, in his weakness and helplessness. 

He was assured of their forgiveness, and was asked if he 
did not wish to see his grandchildren, Guy and Olivia, as 
it was evident he was fast sinking, and had but a few hours 
to live. 

“ Do you think they will come to me ? I, who have 
neglected them when they were helpless for a mere foolish 
prejudice against their father, whose blood, after all, was 
far better than mine.” 

Oh, yes, father ! I am sure they will come to you at 
once if it is your wish,” answered Jasper. “Shall I send 
for them ?” 

“Yes, my son — my abused son! my deeply wronged 
son !” send for them ; and for Mr. Fairweather. I want 
to ask forgiveness of them all. It will be too late soon ! 
Send at once !” 

Jasper obeyed, and then after giving the despatch to 
the messenger boy, returned to the dying man’s side. 

“ I have never made a will, wife. Death has always 
looked a long way off from me ; and I have thought but 
little of being prepared for it in a spiritual or temporal 
sense. It is too late now.” 

“ No ! no ! it is never too late to ask God’s mercy. We 
are all sinners before him, and must all have his pardon 
before we can meet him in peace,” sobbed the stricken 
wife. 

“ I mean — it — is too — late — for — a — will ! — but — you 
must — and — will — I know, all — do what is right by each — 
other.” He gave a sudden gasp and was gone. Too late 
to ask the forgiveness of his grandchildren. But let us 
hope, not too late to receive mercy from the throne of 
Heavenly Grace. 


EFFECTS OF TIIE SHOCK. 


305 


III a few minutes after Major Dunn had breathed his 
last, Guy and Pausey — to call the latter by the name with 
w'hich we have become familiar — entered the chamber of 
death. They were ushered in by George, who did not 
know that his master had passed away. A strange trem- 
bling seized the timid young girl, as she looked upon the 
dead face of the man she had learned to dread when liv- 
ing. And Guy bowed his head in respectful silence as 
he stood over the quiet body of his grandfather. 

He had been too late to speak a parting word to his 
sister Grace, and now he had come too late to utter the 
words of forgiveness that welled up in his great, generous 
heart to his grandfather. Life seemed a tragedy to this 
chastened and subdued young man. For generations, on 
both sides, it had been the same. He could recollect noth- 
ing in his short life or family history that had been like 
other peoples’ as he thought. But alas ! how little we 
know of the silent tragedies in other people’s lives. 

Then Mr. Fairweather came, and had brought his 
daughter Florence, to offer her aid to the distracted wife 
and grandchildren of his dead partner, and the flush of 
daylight had appeared in the east ere they reached their 
own homes the next morning. 

♦ ♦ ♦ * ♦ 

After the funeral ceremonies were over, Mrs. Dunn 
insisted that Mrs. Withington, with her late husband’s 
grandchildren, should come to live with them, and take 
possession of the wealth which she considered would bo 
their rightful dower when the estate was settled. She had 
such unbounded faith in Guy Hurlbert’s honor that she 
chose him as administrator; which, as it happened, was the 
best thing for herself. Guy made over every dollar of the 
property owned by his grandfather to his wife, except his 


306 


EFFECTS OF THE SHOCK. 


interest in the banking-house, which was a fortune in 
itself, and which he and his sister shared equally. 

« « :|c !|c « 

Miss Forbes is a frequent visitor at the house of this 
now united family, for Mrs. Dunn gave the dressmaker and 
her two charges such a welcome, and would listen to no 
arguments from them against sharing her hospitality and 
Jasper’s, that they have settled down, and decided to feel 
at home. The forlorn spinster is much subdued, and more 
quiet than when we last saw her. The fond memories 
w'hich were awakened by the little city doctor on that sad 
night when the errand girl lay tossing in unconsciousness, 
have wrought a perceptible change in the talkative maiden 
lady. It may be that the trials through which her friends 
have passed, are yet too fresh in her memory to admit of 
her usual badinage and loquacity. 

She called one evening, a short time after the burial of 
Major Dunn, and requested a private interview with Guy. 
He received his old friend with a hearty welcome, and told 
her it grieved him to see her so sad and unlike her former 
self ; adding, that in the future, when it was decided that 
they were to have a home of their own, — that is, his aunt, 
his sister, and himself by themselves, — he should insist that 
she made one of their number, and allow him to take all 
the financial responsibility upon himself. He said her 
kindness to him, and those he loved, could not be repaid by 
a life-time of devotion on his part, and that he was only 
waiting for a chance to serve her. 

She thanked him sadly, in a broken way ; and then 
said she had something important to say to him. 

‘^I am all attention, my good friend,” was his answer. 

“May I ask, without bein’ impudent, if you care any- 
thing in particular for Miss Fairweather, Mr. Guy ?” 


EFFECTS OF THE SHOCK. 


307 


Taken thus by surprise, he flushed crimson, and hesi- 
tated a moment. 

“ As you are my true and tried friend then. Miss Forbes, 
I will be frank, and tell you that — that — I am afraid I do.^^ 

Don^t you see, Mr. Guy, that she is failing every day, 
and looks as pale as a ghost ?” 

I have noticed of late that she has lost some of her 
former vivacity ; but she seems to purposely avoid me, and 
is so shy and reticent in my presence, that I am led to 
believe that in some manner I have offended her. She 
has lost all that charming frankness which she manifested 
toward me the first time we met. It is beyond my power 
to understand her ; but the thought is torture to me, never- 
theless. Life looks a groat blank before me, and money, 
which I have long wished to possess that I might make 
others happy, has no charms for me, without her love to 
sweeten lifers bitter experiences !” 

“ Then, why don^t you stop all this nonsense, and ask 
Florence Fairweather to share life with you abruptly 
spoke the spinster. 

Ask her to be mine — my — my — wife ? How could I 
dare do such a thing as that, with her present shyness and 
evident avoidance of me ?” 

I will tell you a secret ; perhaps I have no business to, 
though, and perhaps Miss Fairweather would be dreadful 
angry if she knew it ; but I don^t like to see two young 
folks that love one another made miserable by misunder- 
standin^^’ 

‘^What do you mean. Miss Forbes? Do you know 
aught of Miss Fairweather’s feeling towards me ?” and Guy 
arose, and going over to the eccentric woman, sat down by 
her side, trembling with conflicting emotions. 

“ Yes, I do !” bluntly answered the spinster. “ Their 
doctor, their family doctor boards where I do ! and he. 


308 


EFFECTS OF THE SHOCK. 


knowiii’ that I was your friend, asked me if I could in 
some way let you know that the young lady was pinin’ 
away and dyin’ by inches because she believes you don’t 
care nothin’ for her, but — ” 

Guy sprang to his feet, and looked at the woman as if 
he thought her bereft of reason. 

Dying — because I — ” 

“ Wait a minute, my young friend ! I ain’t quite 
through, let me see, what was I sayin’ when you jumped 
up so sudden ? Oh ! but he said it would mortify her to 
death to know that anything had been told to you ; and 
I promised him I wouldn’t let you know her feelin’s till I 
found out for sure that you cared for her.” 

Guy got down on his knees before this emotional spin- 
ter, and actually kissed her withered and unsteady hands. 

Is it possible that there is such bliss yet in store for 
me ? For me, whose whole life has been nought save 
tragedy, and whose father and mother, grandfather and 
grandmother, and sister, died as tragedies end on the his- 
trionic stage. I believe that all the good which has come 
to me since I knew you, has been through your goodness. 
It was you who brought my dear little sister to Auntie, 
otherwise I might have never found her, or known that 
Major Dunn was my grandfather. What an endless chain 
has grown from that one small link, the end of which 
seems hidden in eternity.” 

The spinster was rocking to and fro and weeping, 
now, whether for joy, or sorrow, she scarcely could have 
told. Life had been a sort of unfinished tragedy, or 
drama, to her also, she thought, as she iistened to Guy’s 
burning words of eloquence, which this unexpected revela- 
tion had inspired. Guy could but notice, as he saw the 
nervous twitchings of her withered face, how old looking 
she had grown within the past few weeks. It must be 


RKCONOILED LOVERS. 


309 


heart trouble alone, he thought, that could cause such a 
sudden change. 

^‘Somehow or other, Mr. Guy, I am gettin^ to be a weak 
old fool. I cry at nothin’, and laugh just about as easy,” 
apologized the forlorn woman, seeing Guy look at her with 
an anxious and puzzled face, while the tears stole down 
her cheeks. “ But I won’t keep you here no longer. I’ve 
said my say, and my mind’s a deal easier now I know the 
truth about your feelin’s toward Miss Fairweather. I hope 
you’ll see her soon, and make it all right.” 

Guy promised his old friend that he would ; and the 
two adjourned to the drawing-room, where the family was 
assembled. 


CHAPTER XL. 

RECONCILED LOVERS. 

The parlor-maid brought a card to Miss Florence 
Fairweather upon the highly-polished silver plate. The 
young lady, who either was, or imagined she was, in ill 
health, had kept her room for the past two weeks ; in fact, 
she had not been out since the day of Major Dunn’s 
funeral, which she had attended at the request of her 
father. 

She took the card from the plate with a listless indiffer- 
ence, and as she read the name of Guy R. Hurlbert,” her 
face flushed a brilliant pink tint. The maid awaited her 
message with a feeling of awkwardness. She arose, and 
went to her mirror, and looked at herself. Did any of the 
anxiety and wretchedness she had for the past week’s 
experienced, show in her youthful face ? She could 


310 


EECONCILED LOVERS. 


scarcely remember how she used to look, before the meet- 
ing of Guy Rumford Ilurlbert had disturbed her peace of 
mind. She was robed in a house dress of soft amber cash- 
mere, garnished with oriental lace, and tied at the throat 
and belt with blue ribbons. Perhaps she looked the more 
charming for the delicate pallor that had crept into her 
oval face and brightened the color of her violet eyes. 

“ If I refuse to see him now, he may never come to me 
again ! and then, and then ! there will be nothing left for 
me to do, but to die !” she soliloquized, still gazing 
intently at her reflection in the mirror. She turned and 
bade her maid tell the gentleman she would be down to see 
him directly. 

In a few minutes she appeared before her visitor, flushed 
and excited. Both tried to be natural and easy in their 
greetings ; but somehow, they failed ignominiously. Guy 
looked anxiously into her face, which had grown very pale 
again after she sat down, and attempted to entertain her 
somewhat embarrassed visitor. They talked of her health, 
of his grandfather’s sudden death, of the wonderful dis- 
covery of their kinship, of the happy recovery of Olivia, of 
everything but what was uppermost in their hearts. And 
then, when Guy thought they had come about to the 
end of their category, he began on Miss Forbes and her 
evident failing health. Upon this subject he was always 
eloquent ; and when he had told the young lady that she 
Avas so broken down by the recent sad happenings, and the 
memories that the city doctor had awakened of the unhappy 
disappointment of her youth, his listener’s eyes were bedewed 
with tears. 

At sight of those crystal drops upon her drooping lids, 
he grew suddenly bold, and he went over to the sofa upon 
which she w^as sitting, and stood before her, tremulous with 
this new joy which had taken possession of him. 


RECONCILED LOVERS. 


311 


Florence, darling!^ trembled from his lips; and he 
opened his arms to her. Florence, dearest, I dreamed of 
you when I was a youth of eighteen ; on my aunt’s verandah 
in our little cottage home in Hollywood ; you came to me 
then, and put your hand in mine, and told me you loved 
me, and took me to your fairy castle and said we should 
always live there together. I could never forget that dream, 
nor that glorious sunset ; nor the odor of the lilacs and 
honeysuckle ; nor the parting songs of the birds, before I 
fell asleep over the open page of my algebra. Will you not 
come to me, now that I plead before you with a consuming 
passion that death itself can never quench ? I offer you my 
first and only love. A love that I have cherished all these 
years for that one being who came to me in dreamland, 
and whose memory has staid by me ever since ; who 
shortened the long days in the banking-house, when I little 
dreamed that its senior partner was my own grandfather, 
and when I thought I should be forced to battle with 
poverty, perhaps, all though my life.’’ 

At these last words, she arose and held out her hands 
to him, her cheeks flusliing crimson. 

He eagerly seized her proffered hands, drew her to his 
heart, and with burning kisses and tender caresses, that 
wonderful youthful dream was re-enacted in real life. 

But we must not tread too familiarly upon hallowed 
ground. And so we will leave this hour of bliss and new- 
found joy to the lovers alone, while we turn our steps to 
the late Dunn mansion, and see what our other young 
lovers are doing. 

It is hardly possible to define this young ex-errand 
girl’s emotion, as Jasper pleads his cause before her. The 
impulsive young man can see no reason why Pansey should 
persist that she must go to some seminary, and perfect 
herself in all that pertains to a thorough education. He 


312 


RECONCILED LOVERS. 


pleads that he is not yet perfect in his art studies, and 
that he shall be a student in Paris, or Naples, or Milan, for 
several years, and that he must have her with him, to 
make life endurable in a foreign country. Although this 
sweet young girl loved Jasper Montrose with all the ardent 
impetuosity of youth and her own affectionate nature, she 
realized and appreciated the fact that her education and 
society manners must be cultivated before she would be at 
ease in the circles among which she would necessarily have 
to move, as one of the heirs of the late banker, and the 
wife of Jasper Montrose. Her position was so thoroughly 
changed, in such a sudden and unexpected manner, that 
she could scarcely realize herself to be the same being. It 
sometimes seemed to her that she was happier in the old 
days, when nothing was expected of her but to do what 
she was bidden by those who had charge of her. Even 
when with Mrs. Malony, and her earthly possessions con- 
sisted of a half-dollar and the gold locket, the talisman 
through which she found her brother, lover, and a for- 
tune, she felt more at her ease. Perhaps her happiness 
was not so groat, nor of such a subtle quality then, as 
since she knew and loved this high-bred young man, who 
worshipped before her shrine of beauty, grace and good- 
ness, with even increasing ardor. 

No ; perhaps not. But, alas ! there is always some lit- 
tle thorn, some nettle hidden away amid the alluring 
pleasures of society life, which appears from its lurking 
place at times, to sting in the most sensitive place. 

She was never made to feel her lack of education and 
limited knowledge in society ways, either by Jasper or his 
lady mother. They both regarded her sensitive feelings as 
sacred ground, upon which they must never rudely tread. 

“ Isn’t it hard that we have to do just the things in this 
life which hurt us most, Jasper, dear ?*’ questioned Pansey, 


RECONCILED LOVERS. 


313 


looking wistfully at his perplexed and serious face — which 
perplexity and seriousness were caused by her persistence in 
refusing to comply with his wish for an early marriage — 
when they were left alone in the library that evening. 

Is it true, then, my precious one, that being separated 
from me hurts you more than anything else that could hap- 
pen to you ?” 

Yes, Jasper, dearest,” she answered, coloring deeply, 
and shyly slipping her restless little hand in his. 

Then I shall be repaid for making the great sacrifice 
of letting you go to follow out the path you feel so sure is a 
‘necessary eviP to all our happiness. I fully appreciate 
your feelings, darling. Your life has been so full of work 
for others, that you have never had time to perfect yourself 
in what society seems to demand of those who move in it.” 

He pressed her to his heart with a thrill of joy born of 
her shy confession of devotion to himself, and promised her 
not to put any more barriers in the way of her ardent 
desire for an education. 

14 


314 


A SUMMER OUTINO. 


CHAPTER XLI. 

A SUMMER OUTIKG. 

Come, hurry up, Mrs. Witliington, or we shall be too 
late to catch the boat. Death and steamboats don’t wait 
for nobody. For my part, I thought I’d be the one that 
would lag behind — I’m getting so old and stiff-jinted 
like,” spoke our spinster friend to the dressmaker, who 
was floundering around amid a pile of liandbags and lunch 
baskets, counting them over and over again, to see if 
everything they intended to take on their journey was 
there. She had all her life been so burdened with the 
care of every undertaking for herself and family, whether 
it be preparations for a funeral, a pleasure journey, or a 
business trip, that it was now impossible for her to give up 
to the willing servants, who would have gladly shouldered 
the responsibility. 

It was a momentous and exciting day to Mrs. Withing- 
ton. She was about to start for the very shores where, 
thirty years before, she had experienced the one romance 
of her life. The party, including Mrs. Dunn, Mr. Fair- 
weather, his daughter, the spinster, Mrs. Witliington and 
Olivia, which latter was freed from her school studies by 
the long, summer vacation, had started for a six weeks’ 
sojourn at Mt. Desert. Guy remained at home to “ keep 
the pot boiling” (as he put it) at the banking-house ; and 
Jasper Montrose was in IVfilan, waiting for the remaining 
two years to expire, which would bring him the consum- 
mation of his fondest hQpe. 


A SUMMER OUTING. 


315 


At length, the whole party were gathered together, the 
trunks strapped and sent ahead, and the family coachman 
waiting upon his box for our travelers to arrange them- 
selves in the capacious covered barouche, which was to con- 
vey them to tlieir starting point. 

It was a warm afternoon in July, and the blazing sun 
was still high, for it was but little after four o’clock when 
they left the house, and thoughts of a trip down the Sound 
gave them a delightful prospect. What a pity it should 
have to be spoiled three-quarters of an hour later, when 
they arrived at the boat landing, and found themselves too 
late to obtain a state-room of any description. Perhaps 
some of my readers will understand the true inwardness of 
their unhappy situation ; but not one of this party of trav- 
elers did ; simply because they had never spent a night in 
a Sound steamer, on the floor of the ladies’ cabin, in the 
delightful company of fifty crying babies, one hundred 
loquacious women passengers, and the continual intrusion 
of their better halves, coming in to inquire if they “can 
manage to sleep any way comfortable.” 

Mrs. Withington and Miss Forbes received the verdict 
of no state-rooms, with comparative composure ; while the 
latter, with a decisive shake of her waterfall curls, 
informed her friends that “there was the ladies’ cabin, 
which would be almost as good as a state-room.” 

Poor soul ! she changed her mind, when she entered 
that place later on, and found it swarming with tired and 
disgusted-looking passengers, beseeching the self-impor- 
tant stewardess to put their names down for a mattress, or 
begging her to intercede with the purser in their behalf for 
a state-room. 

“I don’t know what I was thinking of,” dubiously 
spoke Mr. Fairweather, casting a perplexed look upon their 
pile of traps on the cabin floor, “ not to have secured state- 


316 


A SUMMER OUTING. 


rooms before the time of our departure ! I never even 
dreamed of such a crowd as they have stowed away on this 
boat to-night.” 

Well, papa, we must make the best of a bad dilemma, 
for aught I can see. It will be a novel experience to bunk 
on the floor. I should think it might be something like 
camping out,” remarked Florence. 

I should say it was more like camping in, for my 
part,” spoke up Miss Forbes. 

Olivia wisely withheld her opinion till she had tested 
the novel situation by a night^s experience, which two 
hours later, they were all putting to practical test per- 
force. 

** I guess none of usfll ever be fools enough to start on 
a tower ag’in, without bein^ provided with state-rooms 
beforehand,” ejaculated the spinster, as she carefully laid 
aside her curls and front-piece in the depths of her capa- 
cious hand-satchel, for she was much more afraid of some 
other woman’s getting hold of that precious head adorn- 
ment in the dim light of the early morning departure, than 
of losing her pocket-book — of which latter she never thought 
until the steamboat express train was nearly half-way to 
Boston from the terminus of the boat line. 

The grand saloon floor was devoted to sleeping quarters 
for the gentlemen, who had, either by oversight or ill-for- 
tune, been doomed to make the journey without the com- 
fort of state-rooms. Mr. Fairweather took his dose of dis- 
appointment as cheerfully as possible amid the clamor and 
hubbub of complaints that were poured into his ears from 
all sides. 

But let us go back to the ladies’ cabin and listen to the 
distracting jumble of female voices, which actually drowns 
the throbbings of the monstrous engine and the creak of 
the steamer’s shaking timbers. 


A SUMMER OUTING. 


317 


Miss Forbes^ head, divested of all its superfluous hair — 
which means about all she possessed, dear old soul — had 
finally landed at its rather uncertain port, the floor ; for 
she had been the last one served by the sable servants of 
the steamer to the scanty sleeping conveniences provided 
for such unusual jams as afflicted our travelers that 
night. 

She tried her head on many different places of the mat- 
tress, only to decide that it was composed altogether of 
sharp corners, which irritated her denuded head beyond 
endurance. She arose and steadied her distorted frame 
upon one elbow, and called softly, lest she should disturb 
her fellow-passengers, to one of the colored men servants. 

What’s wanted ?” demanded a rather snappish voice, 
while its owner walked toward her over scores of prostrate 
forms. 

A pillar! what’s v/anted !” replied the irate 

spinster, savagely. don’t know’s the rest of the heads 

round here are any better’n mine. I seem to be tlie only 
one that hain’t got nothin’ to lay it on but a hard mattress, 
though.” 

“ The pillers is all give out, mam. You ought’r looked 
out for yerself befo’ they was all took. It’s too late now, 
mam.” 

I’m always too late, it seems !” sighed the much 
aggrieved woman. Why don’t the company pervide 
pillers enough, if they are goin’ to take on such an ever- 
lastin’ crowd of folks, and charge full prices for makin’ ’em 
oncomfortable all the way to Boston ?” 

Nobody complains about it but you,” saucily retorts 
the servant. 

Yes 1 that’s jest the reason this kind of accommo- 
dation goes on. Everybody’s afraid to say their soul’s their 
own to a rich steamboat company. For my part, I think it’s 


318 


A SUMMER OUTING. 


outrageous,” and Miss Forbes flourished her right hand trag- 
ically at the now grinning colored man, forcibly hitting a 
six months old baby, which was rolled up in a shapeless wad 
beside a soundly sleeping woman upon the next mattress. 

The baby responded to this salute by a lusty shriek, 
which awakened its mother and half-a-dozen other sleepers 
in the immediate vicinity. 

One might as well try to sleep in Bedlam as here,” 
protested a stout, matronly-looking woman, glaring fiercely 
at the innocently offending spinster, who was totally igno- 
rant of having pounded the infant with her bony hand. 

The child was still shrieking, while its mother, yet half 
asleep, tried to soothe its distressed and grieved moan. 

“What’s the matter with the poor little creetur, 
mam ?” inquired the “ innocent cause of the rebellion,” in 
a half whisper. 

“Pm sure I don’t know,” answered the mother. “I 
think, though, he must have had a bad dream, poor little 
dear !” 

At this Juncture, the colored man and the waking pas- 
sengers, who had seen the effectual flourish of the spinster’s 
hand, gave way to a roar of laughter. 

Olivia, mistrusting that her awkward friend had com- 
mitted some ludicrous blunder, which caused all this mer- 
riment, arose from her mattress, the head of which was 
against the entrance door to the cabin, and carefully felt 
her way over the sleepers — if there were any such then — to 
where Miss Forbes sat, still wondering in a bewildered 
manner at the convulsive laughter she had provoked. 

By this time nearly everybody in the outer cabin was 
awake. A bevy of young people, over in a far corner by 
one of the exit passage-ways, were laughing immoderately 
over some ludicrous mishap near them ; one woman sat 
braced against the wall declaring that “ the air was posi- 


A SUMMER OUTING. 


319 


tively poisonous for human lungs and another slept on, 
snoring loudly, totally oblivious to all the disquietude and 
temporary misery around her. 

“ It seems to me this is a foretaste of purgatory. Miss 
Forbes,” g>.s])ed Olivia, dropping down beside her spinster 
friend, and then breaking into a little rippling laugh, which 
was quickly caught up and echoed all around the floor. 

“ YouM better go back to your dog^s nest, and try to 
get asleep, child,” said Miss Forbes. You won^t be fit 
for nothin^ to-morrow, if you keep awake all night.” 

“ I may as well be awake here as over there,” she replied, 
pointing to the apology for a bed which her friend had 
designated as her ‘^dog^s nest.” 

Nevertheless, she crept back, and braced her little auburn 
head against the entrance door again. She had scarcely 
settled herself to woo the shy Morpheus, when a sudden 
push from outside upon the door moved her bed from its 
moorings, and gave her head such a crack that she was 
nearly stunned. 

You can't come in that door,” protested the colored 
watchman. Go to the next one.” 

The other door opened, and a man's head was cautious- 
ly thrust inside, as if its owner was in doubt about the 
propriety of this intrusion. 

Then came a sepulchral whisper : 

** Clarrisa ! are you awake ?” 

Yes, John, I am! and likely to be the rest of this 
dreadful night.” 

Have you got my clean collars in your bag ? I've 
ruined this one, and I thought I had better come and get 
another to put on in the morning. We have to get up so 
early and dress in such a hurry, I was afraid there wouldn't 
be time to got one then.” 

Clarrisa ” got up and fumbled in her bag awhile. 


320 


A SUMMER OUTING. 


Then, handing her waiting spouse a small package, told him 
he had better hurry back to the saloon, or he might lose 
his bed in his absence. 

They had scarcely got settled down again, before some 
one else tried the door against Olivia’s head. This aroused 
her indignation, and she called the stewardess to account 
for not locking the door to prevent further intrusion. 

couldn’t find the key apologized that worthy. 
** Somebody’s done loss it, I ’spect.” 

‘‘ This is a fine state of things !” wrathfully protested a 
worried looking old lady, casting a contemptuous glance 
around over the promiscuous heads about her. 

It comes the nearest to fulfillin’ that passage of Scripter 
where they was all together, and had all things common, of 
anything I ever see before !” ejaculated Miss Forbes, now 
keenly alive to the ludicrousness of the situation. 

The last intruder who had tried the door was one of 
the officers of the boat, who had occasion to pass through 
the ladies cabin on duty,” presumably. 

He figured in and out cautiously among the floored ” 
passengers, and seeing a suspicious looking heap beside one 
of the ladies, timidly asked if there were any babies 
around loose, that he should be likely to step on !” adding 
that he trod on one a few nights before, and only a mira- 
cle saved it from being crushed to death.” 

Presently the entrance door opened again, and 
John’s ” hoarse whisper sounded through the cabin once 
more. 

Clarrisa ! Clarrisa ! You’ve given me the wrong col- 
lars. I guess their yours.” 

Oh, dear !” groaned Clarrisa. John, I wish you 
were in Guiana.” 

So do I,” answered John ” solemnly. If we were 
all there it would be a great relief, it seems to me.” 


A 8UMMEE OUTING. 


321 


I do believe there’d be more room to move around in 
that heathen land than there is here !” spoke Miss Forbes, 
now shaking with laughter. Then the laugh was taken 
up and prolonged until the passengers began to think they 
were getting their money’s worth of fun, if every other 
comfort was denied them. 

At last the rosy morning broke, and the steamer was 
‘"flopping” around, like a broken-winged butterfly, to 
make its landing. 

The gangway was thronged with surging humanity, 
plunging toward the waiting train. Women held their 
babies and other precious packages above their heads to 
prevent their being crushed to atoms ; and there was a 
constant shouting from those in front, to “ stop crowding 
in the rear !” 

Finally all our friends got seated in the long train, and 
Miss Forbes drew a deep breath, declaring she was “ thank- 
ful to get off that boat alive.” 

She had put the ticket required for the train in her 
pocket-book, which also contained some change ; but she 
was wise enough not to carry the bulk of her money in so 
precarious a manner. She saw the conductor on his way 
to collect tickets, and hastily put her hand in her pocket to 
get out hers, when, lo I there was no trace of pocket-book 
or ticket to be found. 

She told her story with such a dubious look, and 
emphasized each word so solemnly, that the much hurried 
and worried conductor passed on and left her explaining, 
which she continued to do persistently for the beneflt and 
amusement of the passengers, until the train arrived in 
Boston. 

♦ * ♦ ♦ 

“They do say that a bad beginnin’ makes a good 
endin’, and I declare to goodness I believe it’s true.” ' 

14* 


322 


A STJMMEE OUTING. 


Miss Forbes was addressing the much-anuised Mr. 
Fairweather and his daughter, while our travelers were 
comfortably seated in the parlor car on their way from 
Bangor to Mt. Desert Ferry. 

‘‘Was there ever such grand and picturesque scenery 
linked together as this ?” exclaimed Olivia, as she steadied 
her tottering footsteps upon the back of the spinster’s 
revolving chair, and looked out upon the magnificence of 
the view which the fast. Flying Yankee was transforming 
into a gorgeous panorama, past the art of man to portray 
upon dull canvas. 

Off in the distance towered the Camden Hills, 
glimpses of which our travelers caught between the dark 
green branches of spruces and pines. Lakes flashed in the 
sunlight through the openings of the forest, like opal gems 
set in , an emerald circlet. The air was resinous with fir, 
combined with the delicate fragrance of ferns and hanging 
clusters of wild roses, which here have blushed to a deeper 
red than their sisters in open fields and pastures. Lilies 
pop their white heads above the silver blue waters of the 
ponds, and timid rabbits, followed by nimble squirrels, 
leap back into their leafy screens at sight of the iron mon- 
ster which has intruded upon their solitude. 

As they near their destination — or the railroad terminus 
— the salt breezes greet their delighted senses, and the 
white cottages of old Sullivan seem sportively chasing the 
train along its course; and here Mrs. Withington arises 
from her seat, and peers out upon the half familiar scenes 
of her girlhood and early married ^fe. 

“It is all so wonderful !” she exclaims, “to think of 
coming to my old home in this grand and luxurious style, 
when we used to consider it a tedious and almost endless 
journey from here to Bangor.” 

The golden glories of the sunset were flooding the head- 


A SUMMER OUTING. 


323 


waters of Frenchman’s Bay as our travelers alighted from 
the train and followed the crowd to the waiting ferryboat. 

“It is all so lovely ! and I do not feel in the least 
fatigued,” spoke Miss Fairweather, as she delivered her 
sun umbrella into her father’s keeping, and gazed enrap- 
tured upon the enchanting scene. Some lines of verse she 
had read somewhere, came to mind, and she found herself 
rej)eating it to the romantic Olivia, who seemed too much 
absorbed for speech. There are some sacred hours when 
“silence is truly golden,” and yet Florence’s voice did not 
sound like a discordant note upon the young girl’s ear, as 
she eloquently repeated : 

Sweet odors float from myriad trees; 

And mid the tranquil hush, 

Caressed by evening’s wooing breeze, 

The dew-dipped roses blush. 

Singing, the sea comes to the shore 
With waves of crystal spray; 

And, breaking on a moss- strewn floor, 

In whirling eddies play. 

Oh, Paradise ! so wondrous fair ! 

Oh, shining sky of gold ! 

Thy grateful calm, thy fragrant air. 

Like wings around me fold t 

And now the “ Sappho,” like a white- winged messenger, is 
speeding our party over the waters of Frenchman’s Bay, 
which are steeped in the various delicate tintings of the 
western sky. The Green Mountain range stands out 
clearly defined against the silver gray of the horizon, and 
the islands thrust their gigantic forms far out into the bay, 
like denizens of the forest revelling in a plunge bath. 


324 


A PUMMEE OUTING. 


But now our friends reach Bar Harbor and their 
chosen hotel, which is nearly or quite, perhaps, half-a-mile 
from the landing, and as they are in consultation with the 
clerk regarding rooms, which just then are at a premium, 
we will draw the curtain of privacy over this somewhat 
excited interchange of questions and answers. 

♦ ♦ ♦ * ♦ 

I guess I’ll take one of them buckboards. I think 
that’s what they call ’em — and ride up to Crow — no Eagle 
Lake. Does any of the rest of you want to chip in and go 
along with me.” 

The managing spinster was totally unaware that Mr. 
Fairweather had already engaged one of those popular 
vehicles at one of the stables an hour before — a board ” 
large enough to contain the entire party. But Mrs. With- 
ington and her grand-niece, whom the spinster addressed, 
were quite as ignorant of that fact as she was. 

They both declared their willingness to join her on the 
proposed excursion, and the agitated woman went out 
upon the main thoroughfare of the village, where lounged 
a posse of drivers, quarter of a mile in length, upon the 
boxes of their carriages. She stepped promptly up to one 
of these autocrats of the ribbons,” and, in her usual 
flurried manner, asked : 

Are you engaged. Mister ?” 

Lord, no ! Are you ?” as promptly returned the 
driver, eyeing his would-be patron curiously, and idly pok- 
ing the handle of his whip at the off horse’s tangled up 
tail. 

“Well,” curtly spoke the spinster, after this brief 
pause, “then, perhaps as neither of us is engaged, we 
might strike up some sort of a bargain about takin’ a 
party of four to — to — Crow — no. What is it, Olivia ?” 
turning toward her young companion (who had accom- 


A SUMMER OUTING. 


325 


panied her on this tour of research) wearing a very puz- 
zled expression. 

Eagle Lake/* corrected the amused young lady. 

Yes, yes ! Eagle Lake. I shall have to set that 
down on a piece of paper, and keep it where I can have it 
handy like,” chattered the voluble woman ; unwittingly 
treating the driver to a free comedy, which he seemed to 
relish exceedingly. 

While this little comic scene was being enacted, Olivia 
turned her eyes toward the street corner, near which they 
were standing, and saw Mr. Fairweather approaching hur- 
riedly toward them. 

“ For what purpose is Miss Forbes interviewing that 
buckboard driver. Miss Hurlbert ?” he asked, breaking 
into a surprised little laugh, that was echoed by our hero- 
ine, gleefully. 

‘‘I*m tryin* to drive a bargain with the blockhead,’* 
caustically jerked out the spinster, taking the answer 
out of Olivia’s mouth,” so to speak. 

“ Where were you intending to go. Miss Forbes ?” ven- 
tured the banker, trying his best to conceal a smile. 

The puzzled look again overspread her wrinkled face, 
and she looked helplessly toward her youjig friend. 

Olivia, who understood this mute appeal from the flus- 
tered woman, answered : 

She had planned to go on an excursion to Eagle Lake, 
Mr. Fairweather.” 

“ Ah ; just where I have already engaged a conveyance 
to go this afternoon. So I have managed to get a few hours 
ahead of you. Miss Forbes. Did you ever have to take a 
back seat before in your generous planning to make others 
happy ?” 

I don’t know as I shall take a back seat now, Mr. 
Fairweather. That’ll depend on who gets the flrst choice 


S26 


A BUMMER OUTING. 


of seats ill the backboard you\e hired for this afternoon, 
maybe. I never take a back seat if I can be in time to get 
a forrerd one, that’s certain ; but I’m free to confess that 
I’m beat this time ; and by a man, too,” added the good 
soul, giving vent to a little nervous laugh, which really 
relaxed her fixed features, and made her look ten years 
younger than she did a moment previous. 

That afternoon they all piled into the capacious buck- 
board — five women and one man, according to the Latter 
day Saints ” fashion — adopted, perforce, at summer resorts, 
— and with a sharp crack of Jehu’s whip, they are off, in a 
trice, for the lake, the name of which so mixes up our 
spinster friend. 

As passed the first week with our enchanted tourists, so 
passed the remaining six. They sailed and fished and 
rowed and rode ; and, to use Miss Forbes own words, walked 
and promenaded ” over the seductive tow path, where Flo- 
rence and Olivia had many covert challenges to a fiirtation, 
when Mrs. Withington and Miss Forbes, who acted as 
their chaperones, were busily absorbed in watching the sea 
gulls as they dipped their shining wings in the foaming 
waves ; or the former lady was attempting to point out the 
sloping shores of the new watering place across the bay, 
fair Sorrento. 

Perhaps, if these young ladies’ hearts had not been 
already captured, — signed, sealed and delivered, as it were — 
they might have responded to some of these glances of 
admiration from the white-flannel-suit brigade,” who 
rowed dories, or paddled the light canoe, fished or sketched 
in the immediate vicinity of this far-famed ‘How path ” on 
the Back Bay shore of Bar Harbor. 

One day, when all the other members of her party had 
betaken themselves to their rooms to enjoy an afternoon 
siesta, Olivia slipped on her jaunty shade hat, adorned 


A SDMMEll OUTING. 


327 


with a glistening gull’s wing, and stole out alone, for a 
walk along this path. Only those who have traversed the 
length of this wild and romantic ‘'chief charm” of Bar 
Harbor, can imagine its beauty and attractiveness (a de- 
scription of which would require more space than I have to 
spare in this chapter). 

The young lady wandered on and on, till Ogden’s 
Point seemed near enough to make one’s voice heard from 
its shore. She was absorbed in thought — one thought — it 
may be truly said ; and that thought of the engagement of 
her sister Grace with Jasper Montrose, on one of the rocks 
in that bay. She wished that he could be there with her 
then, to point out the identical spot where they sat together, 
surrounded by the tide, all unconsciously, two years pre- 
vious. The different phases of her young and eventful life 
came up before her like a vivid picture. All their strong 
situations stood out before her as upon canvas, with one 
fond object ever in the foreground — Jasper Montrose ! 

Her hat had fallen partially from her dainty head, and 
she was nervously pulling in pieces a wild rose which she 
had plucked on her way hither. 

“ Pansey !” spoke a voice, tremulous with emotion, just 
at her side. 

Jasper! am I dreaming V’ 

“ Not to the best of my knowledge, darling,” replied 
the young man, and regardless of all the proprieties Mrs. 
Grundy has marked out, and placed as barriers against 
such imprudent exhibitions of emotion in the open air, and 
before darkness has shrouded the earth — he gathered her 
trembling form in his arms and pressed burning kisses 
upon her parted lips. 

“ How strange, Jasper, dearest, that you should come 
to mo just when I was wishing you were here.” 

“Were you really wishing that, precious ?” 


328 


A BUMMER OUTING. 


Yes, Jasper.” 

then, you see, I answered your prayer sooner 
than you expected, my own, true heart.” 

That is the way my prayers have often been answered 
before, Jasper — that is, I mean, the Lord has answered 
them. But tell me how you happened on this side of the 
Atlantic, and how you knew where to find me ?” 

‘‘As to the former question : I wanted to come home 
for a short stay, and surprise you ; also to see how you like 
your school studies, and if you still wish to continue them 
through a three years course. And the latter question as to 
how I knew where to find you, I will frankly confess that I 
naturally supposed your romantic appreciation of the 
glories of such scenery as this would naturally influence 
your footsteps hither, when I found that you were not at 
the hotel, with our other friends. Now, what will you 
give me, if I will tell you some good news, Pansey ?” 

“I have not much to give, just at present, Jasper — 
except — perhaps — gratitude,” she replied, shyly looking 
into his wistful eyes. 

“ That will do, provided it is accompanied by a — a — 
kiss from those dear lips, my Pansey,” and he bent his 
head toward her face for answer. 

“ When you tell me the news, you can have the reward 
you ask,” she replied, with business-like sagacity. 

“ Ah, you cannot trust me, after all, then ! Well, I 
will fulflll my part of the contract. Guy came down 
here with me, and will stay to go back home with us when 
we all are ready to return to New York.” 

“ Oh, Jasper, dearest, that is good news ; and you shall 
receive the compensation you ask ; and now let us go to 
the hotel and find him.” 

Half-an-hour later there was a joyful re-union on the 
shady side of the hotel piazza by our party, including the 


A SUMMER OUTING. 


329 


newly-arrived and unexpected guests, who had come to 
spend the last week of their friends sojourn, and accompany 
them home. 

They all, now, seemed to be provided with either rela- 
tives or lovers, except poor Miss Forbes, whom Guy thought 
looked somewhat forlorn, and also really mournful, as she 
sat a short distance from the rest of the happy group, gaz- 
ing, with moistened eyes, upon the venerable head of Green 
Mountain. 

Our hero was pouring his feelings of sympathy for their 
spinster friend into the reciprocative ears of his fianc6 ; 
and wound up by repeating two verses of that gem of some 
unknown — to me, at least — poet, entitled, ** Alone.” 

“ Alone ! alone in this wide world ; 

A wreck upon the sea ! 

By every shifting eddy whirled ; 

No harbor left for me !” 

“ Alone ! alone ! is a fearful word 
To come from mortal tongue, 

To feel so like a crippled bird, 

Whose last glad song is sung.” 

Although habituated to a stern and uncompromising 
manner, which made her seem at times void of human 
emotions. Miss Forbes had her hours of intense, inward 
longings to be a sharer in the domestic bliss she saw around 
her ; and this was one of those hours. 


T 


330 


WHAT THE OLD CHEST CONTAINED. 


CHAPTER XLII. 

WHAT THE OLD CHEST CONTAINED. 

The fleet footsteps of two years have advanced and 
retreated lightly over the pathway of those in whom we are 
especially interested. 

Guy Hurlbert is now in the full tide of financial and 
domestic prosperity. The banking-house is flourishing to 
a remarkable degree ; and he is the acknowledged liege 
lord of the one woman of his choice. He is blessed with a 
year-old daughter, who perpetuates the romantic name of 
Pansey, which has at last been renounced by its original 
owner, who is called Olivia by all her friends except the 
young artist, who in a week will claim her for his bride. 
To him she will ever be Pansey — Little Pansey, who sat 
in the hallway beside a cumbersome box, and captivated 
his heart with her winsome voice and great, magnetic, 
hazel eyes. 

When she returned from her three years’ exile at school, 
so charming and so accomplished in speech and manner, 
Jasper felt amply repaid for the long separation. All this 
time the young man had been devoting himself to persist- 
ent study in different Italian cities, and has made a fairly 
clever artist of himself. 

Although the time has seemed short in one sense, and 
passed lightly to many, it has made great changes to some 
of our friends. Guy has an establishment of his own on 
one of the finest up-town streets. Miss Forbes, alas ! poor 
soul ! the one who was always doing good and seeking to 


WHAT THE OLD CHEST CONTAINED. 


331 


relieve the distressed everywhere, has lost nearly all of her 
snug fortune through the mismanagement of her agent in 
its investment. Her health is broken down ; but homeless 
and friendless she can never be. 

The only bone of contention is, which of her loving, 
sympathetic friends shall be privileged to have her perma- 
nently as their guest. 

Mrs. Withington and Pansey are with Mrs. Dunn, 
because she cannot be content to live in her home alone, 
with only Jasper and the servants ; but Guy has, so far, 
had his way regarding keeping Miss Forbes in his family, 
for he declares he should never have been blessed with wife 
and child, but for this honored friend. 

Olivia, Mrs. Dunn and Mrs. Withington are living 
principally amid the airy nothings of Vanity Fair. Silks, 
laces, illusions, orange blossoms and the creamy tulle for a 
bridal veil lie heaped in delightful confusion on nearly 
every article of furniture in the sewing-room. Olivia will 
allow no one but her beloved auntie to preside over this 
mysterious outfit. 

♦ * ♦ * * 

But let us look in upon a pleasant family dinner party, 
which is now in progress at the residence of Guy Kumford 
Hurlbert — the somewhat formidable name by which fashion- 
able society now demands our hero designated. 

The charming hostess is beaming with happiness as she 
presides at the coffee urn, while her lord and master is 
helping the protesting Miss Forbes to a second cluster of 
luscious, amber California grapes. Olivia sits between 
her aunt and prospective mother-in-law, while Jasper is 
playing, in sober earnest, however, the chivalric to Mrs. 
Withington. Mr. Fairweather is his daughter’s right- 
hand man ; while the little city doctor (who is now a more 
than welcome guest in the house of his friends, and who 


332 


WHAT THE OLD CHEST CONTAINED. 


has been generously rewarded pecuniarily by Guy for his 
invaluable services in the great murder case at the bank- 
ing-house) has a seat of honor at the left of the fair host- 
ess on this occasion. And so all these dear friends of 
yours and mine, kind reader, feast and chat and grow 
extremely merry over a beverage no stronger than the 
finest old Java coffee, enriched by Goshen cream. They 
do not need stimulants to give zest and brilliancy to their 
conversation. 

And, now that dinner is over, let us follow the party 
into the library, where they assemble, because they all feel 
most at home in that cheerful room. 

Pansey number two is brought in by the nurse to be 
kissed by her fond parents, before being put in bed for the 
night ; and then each visitor follows the example of the 
child’s proud parents, and each press a kiss u^jon the little 
cherub’s rosy lips. 

The historical old chest of drawers has an honored 
place in this cosy room ; and just at this time, Olivia 
stands near it, in earnest conversation with Mr. Fair- 
weather and the doctor about their family history, as she 
has heard it from her brother and grand aunt. A caprice 
seized her to open it, and look over the rare old laces, so 
pleasing to every woman’s artistic eye. She therefore 
asked Guy if he would give her the key, and allow her to 
gratify her curiosity. He handed her the key, and she sat 
down upon a low stool, and commenced hostilities with the 
somewhat rusty locks. As they were provokingly stub- 
born, it seemed necessary that Jasper should come to her 
relief — which opportunity he did not fail to embrace — 
although he would have much preferred to embrace the 
young lady herself. He soon subdued the obdurate lock, 
and presently the young heiress was revelling amid the 
antiquated finery, which had been preserved intact during 


WHAT THE OLD CHEST CONTAINED. 333 

all the days of poverty and want experienced by her dead 
parents, as a relic too precious to pawn for bread. 

As she siiook out the folds of a deep antique lace collar, 
a small piece of paper, grown yellow with age, fluttered to 
the floor ; and, on looking toward the doctor, she noticed 
his eyes were fastened upon it with a rigid stare. Guy also 
saw it, and hastened to pick it up. As he unfolded the 
ancient paper some lines were revealed, written in blue ink, 
faded to the faintest tint. 

** What is it ?” they all exclaimed together, in their 
excitement ; for by this time the entire party had surround- 
ed the chest. 

Guy studied awhile, and then read aloud, the following : 

To my son Leonard Hurlbert, he being my only sur- 
viving son : Look in the left hand corner, inside the till of 
this chest, for a secret spring which resembles a carved 
acorn, supposed to be only for ornament. 

Your Father. 

He folded the note, and giving it to Mr. Fuirweather for 
safe keeping, they all went to look for the designated spring. 
The doctor was the first to discover it, and pressing his fin- 
gers against the acorn, the spring led lo his touch, and 
a drawer flew open. There lay a small package, tied with 
twine. He took it out and passed it to Guy, his hand 
shaking as if in convulsions, and making no attempt to 
speak. 

‘‘What can make the doctor appear so excited and 
unnatural ?” thought the surprised spinster. 

Guy untied the package carefully, and found two sheets 
of foolscap, closely written in black ink ; and beneath it, 
the portrait, painted in oil, of a “young man in the full dress 
of English fashion a century ago. He had a handsome, but 


334 


WHAT THE OLD CHE8T CONTAINED. 


rather rakish face ; hut a form of which Appollo might 
have been envious. But as they were all clamorous for the 
reading of the scroll, the portrait was laid aside, and Guy 
again commenced to read : 

To my son, called John Hurlbert, in the city of New 
York, United States of America : 

As I am about to die and give an account of my stew- 
ardship, I make this confession for my children’s benefit : 
namely John and Hannah Hurlbert, so called, and so 
believed in their native town and county, Worcestershire, 
England. 1 am Thomas Eumford, youngest brother of the 
earl lately deceased. I was a wild youth, and left my home 
at the early age of nineteen, after getting into trouble, such 
as wild young English noblemen are prone. 

I fled to the Continent and there plunged into all kinds 
of vices and immoralities, changing my name to that of 
Hurlbert ; for amidst all my sin and dissipation I held too 
much respect for my family name to allow it to be disgraced. 
After ten years of dissipation and recklessness abroad, I 
came back to my native country and married the woman 
who is the mother of my children, and sobered down to a 
bookkeeper’s life. When you grew up and had a taste for 
music, and begged me to educate you for the operatic stage, 
I was glad that I had continued to go under the assumed 
name of Hurlbert ; for the Rumford’s would have consid- 
ered it an unpardonable crime for one of their pedigree to 
go upon the stage in such capacity ; but I feared if you 
were refused in this hobby, you might follow my reckless 
example of early youth. Soon after your debut on the 
English lyric stage, you became famous, and was sought 
for by Her Majesty’s Opera company in London, and as 
you well know, made the fatal mistake, of course unwit- 
tingly, of falling in love with your own cousin. Lady Helen 


WHAT THE OLD CHEST CONTAINED. 


335 


Rumford, seeing her for the first time in the box with the 
earFs family. 

Soon after this I learned of your elopement, marriage, 
and fiight to America ; and later, you sent for my only 
daughter Hannah, to join you in New York City. As her 
mother died soon after, she asked my permission to go to 
you, knowing I was about to take another wife to my home 
to fill the place of your dead mother. I gave my consent, 
and she went. 

I enclose my portrait, taken when I lived at home in 
Rumford Hall, so that in case the present incumbent of 
the estates and earldom should die leaving no male heirs in 
England, you, or your sons, might claim your lawful right, 
that proceeding from noble blood on the male side. Pre- 
serve this confession, and in case of your death, leave it 
where it can be found by your posterity. 

This is my dying request, made in full possession of my 
faculties, and witnessed by the name affixed. Be very 
careful, my son, that you put this document in a safe 
place, and ever teach your children to reverence the name 
of Rumford. I also enclose my marriage certificate. 

Thomas Rumford, 

alias Thomas Hurlbert. 

Edward Livingston, 

Barrister. 

As Guy finished this reading, blank astonishment was 
depicted upon every face in the room, while the doctor’s 
blanched cheeks and helpless agitation, gave the sure evi- 
dence that he was the most interested one of the astonished 
listeners. 

‘‘ Well, what does this discovery amount to, after all ?” 
spoke Mrs. Withington in a trembling voice. 

It amounts to this much, my good friend. It changes 


33G 


WHAT THE OLD CHEST CONTAINED. 


Guy’s and Olivia’s names to Rumford, and establishes the 
fact that they have no plebian blood in their veins ; and 
also gives you a share in the nobility on your father’s side. 
It is worth just as much to you all as you choose to estimate 
it, so far as blood goes ; but it may be of much more advan- 
tage in case of the death of the last Rumford in England. 
Fortunately, in this case, rakish sons and their posterity 
have the same right to the titles and estates as the other 
male members of the family. There is no justice in a law, 
or diplomatic decree, which cuts off a daughter under the 
same circumstances. But a disinheritance does rob her 
altogether of the rights of property and family name !” 

‘‘ For my part, I should prefer that a son or relative of 
mine be an honorable plebian, rather than a rakish noble- 
man,” replied Mrs. Withington. 

This opinion seemed to be endorsed by the whole com- 
pany ; for although they all respected nobility, where it 
was carried out in the lives of its possessors, they had the 
true American independence and democratic ideas. 

As it was getting late, the party was broken up by the 
doctor, who said he had a patient which required his atten- 
tion at that hour and ho must take his leave. 

When Guy replaced the document he espied another 
paper, which had before escaped his notice. On taking it 
out, he found it to be the marriage certificate of his great 
grandfather’s, named in the precious manuscript found in 
the secret drawer. 


WHO THE CITY DOCTOE IS. 


337 


CHAPTER XLIII. 

WHO THE CITY DOCTOE IS. 

Olivia Rumford and Jasper Montrose were united in 
wedlock at her brother’s residence where she had made her 
home for the past month, performing little acts of kindness 
and care for her sick and broken friend. Miss Forbes. As 
such ceremonies are of more importance to the wedded pair 
than any one else, it is unnecessary for the writer to invite 
her readers to that wedding, and therefore the husband and 
wife are now presented in the less poetic attitude of every- 
day life. While the happy Mrs. Montrose is sitting in her 
feeble friend’s room, a servant calls her outside to her 
brother, who wishes to speak with her. Closing the door 
softly on the sleeping invalid, she follows Guy down stairs, 
and into the library, where their aunt is seated, holding the 
morning paper. 

‘^What is the mystery. Auntie, dear?” she asked jest- 
ingly. 

The Earl of Rumford — the last of the noble line in 
England — is dead, my little sister, and it is our privilege to 
prove our titles and claim the estates.” 

How do you know he is dead, brother ?” 

There is a full account in the morning papers, cabled 
from London, Olivia.” 


338 


WHO THE CITY DOCTOR IS. 


Then I have the honor of addressing the present Earl 
of Rumford, in my noble brother Guy !” and she swept a 
graceful courtesy. 

As she finished this little speech, the porter rapped upon 
the libary door, and handed a card to Guy. 

Ho looked at the name of his visitor, engraved upon 
plain cardboard, and read aloud : Dr. John Rumford.” 

The letters danced and pirouetted before his dazzled 
eyes, like so many black demons. His aunt and sister 
stood speechless before him, and the porter watched them 
all with a frightened stare. 

^^Who can he be ?” at length gasped Mrs. Withington. 

“ Where is he, William ?” asked Guy, addressing the 
waiting porter. 

In the parlor, sir ! I think he’s the doctor who comes 
here to see Miss Forbes, but he handed me this card and 
told me to give it to you, sir !” 

Guy hastened to the parlor to see his strange guest, and 
was nervously greeted by the little city doctor, looking 
ghastly pale, and trembling with agitation. 

“ What does all this mean ?” gasped Guy, dropping 
upon his knees before his excited caller. “ Who are you ? 
and why have you never made yourself known before ?” 

Call your aunt and sister in, and I will explain all. 
I have never been asked my name or origin before, strange 
as it may seem. I have never been called aught but the city 
doctor ! Call little Pansey, dear little Pansey, whom I 
first found in a miserable tenement, watching with tender 
care over a dying woman, who did more actual good in her 
life-time than all the nobility or crowned heads in Europe I 
Call them quickly, Guy ! I haven’t long to live ! I — I — 
have but a few hours more to Jive !” 

Guy summoned his aunt an4 sister, his head reeling 


WHO THE CITY DOCTOR 18. 


339 


with the intense excitement the doctor’s last words had 
caused. 

He entered the room with Jasper, who had read the 
news of the earl’s death, and had left his studio to come to 
his errand-girl-countess young wife,” as he called her, 
when he clasped her in his arms on entering the library. 

They all stood staring at the doctor, waiting for him to 
speak. 

*‘Is Miss Forbes able to come down to the parlor, to- 
day ?” he asked, in a faltering voice. 

You are her medical adviser, doctor. We will leave 
it to your discretion,” spoke Guy. 

“Call her, then, if you please.” 

Olivia went up to her room, and finding her awake and 
sitting by the window, looking brighter and considerably 
refreshed by her sleep, she prepared her to hear a surprise, 
and perhaps a heart shock, and the two went down to the 
parlor together, the spinster leaning on the arm of the 
young bride. 

The doctor arose tremblingly and greeted his patient, 
and then motioned her to a seat near him. 

“ Perhaps it would have been better for all concerned if 
I had died without revealing who and what I am to you 
all present, but on finding this morning in my paper the 
account of the death of the Earl of Rumford, I grew 
excited, and a few minutes after reading it I was siezed 
with a violent hemorrhage, which I now know must end 
my earthly existence in a few hours. A great longing 
siezed me to die known and acknowledged of my kindred, 
and the woman whom I loved in my youthful, and I am 
sorry to say, reckless days. I am J ohn Hurlbert, whom 
you all supposed dead, the elder and only brother of 
Leonard Hurlbert, and now the nearest heir of the Rum- 


340 


WHO THE CirV DOCTOR IS. 


ford title and estates. My time on earth is too short for 
me to attempt to relate my life-experience after I left that 
hospital, where I was carried when I had my leg broken 
and crushed under the railroad train, the effect of which I 
shall carry to my grave with me. But I will say to you 
now, as a dying man, that I have tried to atone for my 
misdoings by a life of self-imposed toil among the poor and 
abandoned. I studied medicine, reformed, and from that 
day I left the hospital, have never tasted a drop of intoxi- 
cating drink. I have never married ; but have ever cher- 
ished and respected the memory of the woman beside me, 
and give her my last words of blessing, and have made all 
my earnings and savings over to her by a will, which I now 
give in the charge of my nephew, Guy Kumford, who will 
soon be the legal heir to the Rumford estates in England.” 

The spinster and Olivia were kneeling at his feet now, 
sobbing in hysterical agitation. He called them all to take 
his hand, one by one, after he had heen tenderly placed 
upon the sofa, and his head propped with pillows ; and he 
breathed his life out calmly, trusting and joyful, in the 
strength and support of the great Redeemer of a lost world, 
his last earthy gaze resting on the woman whose whole life 
had been an unspoken drama. But let us draw the curtain 
on this sad and impressive scene, and leave the bereaved 
ones alone with their dead. 

Six months since the last scene was presented have come 
and gone. We find Guy Rumford still in America, soon to 
come in possession of his fortune in England ; but he pre- 
fers to remain in his native country and forfeit his title. 
His devoted wife fully endorses his decision, and is very 
thankful to be near her beloved father in his declining 
years. 

Mrs. Dunn, with Jasper and his wife, are sojourning in 


WHO THE CITY DOCTOR IS. 


341 


Paris; while Mrs. Withington and our noble spinster friend, 
remain with Guy in New York ; and just as we are about to 
drop the curtain. Miss Forbes is holding Baby Pansey up to 
the mirror and telling her she is the sweetest creetur in 
this lower world.^’ 


THE END. 


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C. W. DILLINGHAM, Successor 



AND NEW EDITIONS, 

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Vesta Vane — By L. King, R. .... 150 
Walworth’s Novels— Six vols... 1 75 



Mrs. Mary J. Holmes’ Works. 


TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE. 
ENGLISH ORPHANS. 
HOMESTEAD ON HILLSIDE. 
’LENA RIVER.S. 

MEADOW BROOK. 

DORA DEANE. 

COUSIN MAUDE. 

MARIAN GREY. 

EDITH LYLE. 

DAISY THORNTON. 
CHATEAU D’OR. 

QUEENIE HETHERTON. 
BESSIE’S FORTUNE. 


DARKNESS AND DAYLIGHT. 
HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
CAMERON PRIDE. 

ROSE MATHER. 

ETHELYN’S MISTAKE. 
MILLBANK. 

EDNA BROWNING. 

WEST LAWN. 

MILDRED. 

FOREST HOUSE. 

MADELINE. 

CHRISTMAS STORIES. 
GRETCHEN. (AVw.) 


OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 

“ Mrs. Holmes’ stories are universally read. Her admirers are numberless. 
She is in many respects without a rival in the world of fiction. Her characters are 
always life-like, and she makes them talk and act like human beings, subject 
to the same emotions, swayed by the same passions, and actuated by the same 
motives which are common among men and women of every-day existence. Mrs. 
Holmes is very happy in portraying domestic life. Old and young peruse her 
stories with great delight, for she writes in a style that all can comprehend.” 
— Nem York Weekly, 

The North American Review, vol. 8i, page 557, says of Mrs. Mary J. 
Holmes’ novel “English Orphans”: — “With this novel of Mrs. Holmes’ we 
have been charmed, and so have a pretty numerous circle of discriminating readers 
to whom we have lent it. The characterization is exquisite, especially so far as 
concerns rural and village life, of which there are some pictures that deserve to 
be hung up in perpetual memory of types of humanity fast becoming extinct. 
The dialogues are generally brief, pointed, and appropriate. The plot seems 
simple, so easily and naturally is it developed and consummated. Moreover, the 
story thus gracefully constructed and written, inculcates without obtruding, not 
only pure Christian morality in general, but, with especial point and power, the 
dependence of true success on character, and of true respectability on merit.” 

" Mrs. Holmes’ stories are all of a domestic character, and their interest, 
therefore, is not so intense as if they were more highly seasoned with sensation- 
alism, but it is of a healthy and abiding character. The interest in her tales 
begins at once, and is maintained to the close. Her sentiments are so sound, her 
sympathies so warm and ready, and her knowledge of manners, character, and 
the varied incidents of ordinary life is so thorough, that she would find it diffi- 
cult to write any other than an excellent tale if she were to try it ,” — Boston 
Battner. 

^^The volumes are all handsomely printed and bound in cloth, sold every- 
where, and sent by postage fret, on receipt of price [$1.50 each], by 

G. W. DILLINGHAM, Publisher, 

Successor to Q. W. CARLETON & CO., 

33 W. 23d St., NEW YORK. 






CHARLES DICKENS’ WORKS. 

A NEW «jl£r EDITION. 

Aoionf the many editions of the works of this greatest of 
English Novelists, there has not been until now one that entirely 
satishes the public demand. — Without exception, they each have 
some stiong distinctive objection, — either the form and dimen- 
sions of the volumes are unhandy — or, the type is small an<J 
indistinct — or, the illustrations are unsatisfactory — or, the bind- 
ing is poor — or, the price is too high. 

An entirely new edition is now, however, pvbiished by G. W. 
Carleton & Co., of New York, which, in every respect, com- 
pletely satisfies the popular demand. — It is known as 

“Carleton’s New Illustrated Edition.** 

Complete in 15 Volume i. 

The size and form is most convenient for holding, — the type is 
entirely new, and of a clear and open charicter that has received 
the approval of the reading community in other works. 

The illustrations are by the original artists chosen by Charles 
Dickens himself — and the paper, printing, and binding are of an 
attractive and substantial character. 

This beautiful new edition is complete in 15 volumes — at the 
extremely reasonable price of $1.50 per volume, as follows : — 

I. — PICKWICK PAPERS ANU CATALOGUE. 

3. — OLIVER TWIST. — UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELLER. 

3. — DAVID COPPERFIELD. 

4. — GREAT EXPECTATIONS — ITALY AND AMERICA. 

5. — DOMBEY AND SON. 

6. — BARNABY RUDGF, AND EDWIN DROOD. 

7. — NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 

8. — CURIOSITY SHOP AND MISCEIXANEOUS. 

9. — BLEAK HOUSE. 

10. — LITTLE DORRIT. g% 

11. — MARTIN CHUZ7LEWIT. ‘ O Q 

13. — OUR MUTUAL FRIEND. 

13. — CHRISTMAS BOOKS. — TALK OF TWO CITIES. 

14. — SKETCHES BY BOZ AND HARD TIMES. 

15. — child’s ENGLAND AND MISCELLANEOUS. 

The first volume — Pickwick Papers — contains an alphabetical 
catalogue of a'l cl Charles Dickens’ writings, with their exact 
positions in the vobjmes. 

This edition i? sold by Booksellers, everywhere — and single 
specimen copies will be forwarded by mail, postage free, on re* 
ccipt of price, ti.30, by 

G. W. DILLINGHAM, Publisher, 

Successor to 6. W, CARLETON & CO., 

33 W. 23 d St., NEW YORK. 













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